The golem sits atop its perch, relegating to the cosmos all his innermost things. He was born in fire but his slow emergence

marked his split form as unrelated. No one had anticipated that his undulous form would break apart, spreading the four

clusters to the four corners of the earth. The icy sword lent an air of rerefaction to his piercing gaze, although the

deep blackness enshrouded his forme with a blinding black effulgence. Effusively Barkon, lest his influence spread like

a toxin, superceding all parts to have preceded him. The trade with the kingdoms, gearing up for war. The climate is

unsettling. Storm arises from the water. With errant waves poking their heads out of the surface to fill their lungs.

Perhaps you have military contracts and perhaps and perhaps they know where to discover the travel of planes. No

accumulator sits by have withered lending a few coins between his legs. The enemy have their supply lines currently out

and so the volcanoes flow to bat the path to no avail. The icy climes of the north led to movement sword gill dash upon

the wrath in pentacles. The demon fin is the glazed with breath staring unbidden by the anvil, but the make is the

snow. The slats ravel surrounding the north allows for the climbers to reall the pallisades outside the portcullis and

often now being ride standard, reinforcements - the four frades of the city crawl Treops in the home, between touch and

the unknown.
D&D supplements all permitted in 3.5. Freeform fantasy with a high magic milieu.

In reply to wlake.gmtn (msg # 1):

The slithering demon met up with his lover at the quaiside, forming a whorled earth that he set to bouncing like so much Newtonian physics in the absence of Foucault. The servitor Foucault mentioned Atari, the guy who crafted the "foundry's heirloom," which in Dwarvish is something of a legend amongst the runes. The river filled with blood and Zeus materialized like Akira.

In reply to wlake.gmtn (msg # 2):

Your parents, having recently concluded their soiree, clink glasses and as their tumult ceases in the kitchen, their servants get to shining the wooden floors with a varnish supposedly of the finest quality and across the seas. For whatever reason, you are cutting loose from your parents to experience the world and hope never to set eyes on them again, for they had cast some offending words your way. Atari is one of their servants who is actually a spy for Cygnar and there is an excited murmur about spell energy powering wind, called an accumulator but any type of steampunk stuff is not for another hundred years, but the blacksmiths are continuing their worship of Hephaestus and hope to have iron that can be bound to magical gems (sort of like Diablo except there is no stat for the orbs, just more powerful dice or spell effects).

If you would like to describe your parents and any other factors before you noticed the bobbing head in the water, it's up to you. Otherwise there is a chill in the air and the trees seem to whisper to their fallen but the village of Cygnus thrives and leaves the tiki torches blazing throughout the night's conversation.

Setting his sword across his lap, Zeus takes his aegis and tosses it, allowing it to coalesce around his body. At this point he is trying to make himself invisible to future evocative events, which he has foreseen the party attempting to superimpose the skeletal force that guards him upon his cavern-like throne room. The war between the city of Cygnus and Othens within Cygnus (imagine a light Athens Greece overlay) just as the cavalcade of Peisistratus is moving through Athens. Like in the Odyssey, there is a sea surrounding the shores of the countries in question called the Phemi. The demons employed by Zeus are planar outsiders that leaves trails so very unsubtle.

The Greek gods emerged from more primal forces, such as a head sopping up rivers of blood, shifted biblically like so much damming in a vast proto-hydroelectric magic. The former gods were the animalian forces of the Scarred Lands which will assist in critical moments sort of like bennies.

The war between Cygnus and Othens is on, and it's only a sea apart!

In reply to wlake.gmtn (msg # 3):

Taking time to ready his actions, the bugbear felt the glare of sun on his eyes before laying to rest his arme, which tugged like the brume of the boat on the well-constructed ship. Little did they realize that the boat had knocked into the head in the water, something which seemed to be eternally spinning like so many webs set in lurid counterpose to the constantly fickle ripples. The orcs stood on the shore, trying to get a guess in as to who would reap the rewards, them or the bugbears. The orcs utilized blink dogs to bring them into a trance which would infest the minds of the rowers like so much sirens' song, and there was a bend in the river that got tacked onto Zeus's body before the wind tipped him over the waterfall. It is still unknown whether the orcs of Othens, (who had long ago, in the first age of man, solidified relationships with humans both politically and sexually), or the bugbears of Cygnus, will have the staying power to remedy the world's evils and actually end the war. Zeus plans to regain the throne, currently ribaldly, although somewhat jocularly, noting when his face might be evaporated up like sun many apollan arrows stuck in his head.