Bob loses saving throw vs. shiny with a penalty of -5. Bob takes 2d8 damage to the credit card.

The black of the ocean waves was the color of the sorrow in my breast, a sorrow that was never far away and always visible.

God himself had sent me away. I was truly now among the damned.

I was once a man, not a great man, not a saintly man, but a good man, and a man nonetheless.

I did not choose to be a monster—a shell of a man—half-human, half-fiend. I am a tiefling. I am what I am.

My life was going exactly where I wanted it to until the Devil showed up.

Iona stared at me for a long time. “You are going to leave me a widow before I have a chance to become a bride.

Then it kissed me—not as a man would kiss a lover, not with tenderness or even passion. This was a kiss that stole the soul of men. Revulsion at this creature’s kiss was instantly replaced by the warmth stealing through my veins, as if my missing blood were being replenished and contrived to heal me. I craved to keep kissing the beast. My entire being awakened to that kiss feeding me ecstasy, feeding me life.

When an entire world had abandoned us, or at least while we felt like that, and even when nasty ogres killed my monk and Arnd's chevalier the brutal way, gathering to be a group of heroes & heroines gave us the recovery and idealism to live-on nonetheless.I had hate, contempt, puzzled looks, and sometimes even understanding for those mainstreamers who knew nothing but sex about adulthood. As I have the roots of a European Barbarian who shared his tales at the campfire (old way of books) PLUS knowing that the intimicy of a mature relationship can be spoiled by sex, but it can never be built and maintained by sex alone...Nah, much to contemplative and honest. Let's link-in some light-hearted fun:Mikey Mason, over at youtube dot come has the songs 'Best Game Ever, and Summer of 83'...

When an entire world had abandoned us, or at least while we felt like that, and even when nasty ogres killed my monk and Arnd's chevalier the brutal way, gathering to be a group of heroes & heroines gave us the recovery and idealism to live-on nonetheless.I had hate, contempt, puzzled looks, and sometimes even understanding for those mainstreamers who knew nothing but sex about adulthood. As I have the roots of a European Barbarian who shared his tales at the campfire (old way of books) PLUS knowing that the intimacy of a mature relationship can be spoiled by sex, but it can never be built and maintained by sex alone...Nah, much to contemplative and honest. Let's link-in some light-hearted fun:Mikey Mason, over at youtube dot com has the songs 'Best Game Ever, and Summer of 83'...

With the help of fanzines and close attention to the text of the game you can actually learn to speak Tsolyanu while wondering why the school still makes you learn French–it's not like you're going to use it.