For  GLOGTOBER  Challenge 1- the prompts I made, which I will be doing first because I am a raging narcissist and a ruthless self-promoter. The prompt: Failed Gods and their Consequences.  It's under your floorboards. It's in your walls. It's in your closet, thrashing against the door, keening and chittering from within your inner ear, shrieking with each inhalation. It's outside, out of sight, invisible- it cannot be seen, for it lives where visual perception isn't.  Gods demand perception. If they were truly all-powerful, what use would they have for insignificant mortals? No, omnipotence is a myth; the Gods need our vision and worship. They need their anchors, they need their hands, they need their food. To be forgotten is to be made without form and void once more. There have been deaths of Gods before, mostly of those which are young, weak, and shapeless, but there has been one instance of a truly mighty power being destroyed. Its name is no longer recorde...

 There's a natural, inherent appreciation in the back parts of the human mind for well-weighted sticks. It's just an evolutionary advantage to know a good bludgeoning stick when you see one. We never needed to move past that. Swords? Maces? Bullshit. Baby piss tools for weak people who can't kill with an honest piece of wood. They wouldn't survive for a day if things really got bad. You're like a druid, in a way, crossed with a fighting-man. You eschew weapons so you can club people to death with tree branches and table legs more effectively. GLOG CLASS: STICK FIGHTER A: Favorites, Spoil the Rod B: Fought with Sticks and Stones C: Wands, +1 Attack per Turn D: Bite Down and Pray to God Starting Skills (1d3): 1. Druid washout. 2. Bar brawler. 3. Carpenter. Starting Equipment: Four Light sticks, a Light knife for whittlin', and some rough homespun clothing. You get +1 to-hit with sticks for each template of Stick Fighter you have. Sticks are not a strongly-d...

 Everyone wants more than what they have. You aren't exempt, you stupid liar freak. Go on, take your pick: 1. A hollow lump of sandstone, about as big as a balled fist, with something inside that scrabbles around when shaken. Put it to your ear, and it whispers in a voice choked by dust: It's so dry in here. Bring rain to the desert.   Give me life.  This is an  entombed familiar, a special little geomantic trinket. Cut your palm--or crush a bunch of ants in your hand, it loves ants--and hold the stone; the voice inside will guide you towards the closest naturally-occuring source of precious metals, oil, or other valuable resources. It also has a talent for civic planning and interior design, although it views these fields through a distinctly mystic lense- it's a big fan of ley lines and cosmic currents, and will probably start cursing you out if you so much as mention things like "zoning". If you break the rock open, all that's inside is some dust and the i...

History has had a long line of wizard-kings to terrorize and steer it, demented bastards with an ego so great that the world was forced to orbit them; in this way, they are completely identical to normal kings, save for an ability to make that last line more than just a metaphor. There have been efforts to trace this line back to its origin point, the one who inspired every subsequent ruling magus. There's the Serpent-Men, of course, who were basically an entire species of wizard-kings, but they're nearly all dead these days and they weren't human, anyways, so they don't count. The reason they're basically extinct was a man, the very first wizard-king. He was called  Bringer of Fire ,  Torchbearer , but his first and favorite name was Arum . Charles R. Knight Near the end of the Serpent-Empires, humanity as a species was in a pretty sorry state. Well, they were doing worse before that, what with being chattel slaves and livestock to inhuman blood-drinking monsters a...

If I wanted to kill you with my mind, I could. So consider that next time you disagree with me online, butthead. But that's neither here nor there. The Upper Seas may be a sparse frontier, mostly untouched by Earth's nations and unformed by human perception, but there are landmarks and settlements nonetheless. If you want to view the stars or stay out of the reach of the law, there's no better place to be. Fort Kunosoura. A fortified monastery built on a fragment of a meteor that would have surely brought the end of days had it not been skipped off of the Upper Seas like a stone on a pond by the Knights Gravitational , who built the fortress in ancient times as a monument to their victory and as a means to more effectively practice their astrological studies. Their successors are still here, diminished in number and growing old, but still an influential military force of the Firmament. Their heavy armor allows them to hover in the air, as the Knights forge it from meteors t...

It is common knowledge that, in the upper air, there is a second great ocean to mirror the first. Where do you think the sky gets its blue coloration, some kind of trick of the light? It's common sense, idiot. Less common is the knowledge of how to get up there. You'll need a ship, for one, and if you value being alive, it should be plated with armor and piled with as many protective charms and enchantments as you can afford. Get a crew of madmen for whom the earthly seas no longer hold any thrills, the more prosthetic limbs and tattoos the better. Install a system of harnesses or other measures to keep your men from being tossed overboard by the next step. Get everyone drunk, high, or otherwise out of their gourd, and sail directly into a violent storm; a waterspout or hurricane will do nicely. A tornado could work as well, but it's better to perform this at sea for the sake of simple convenience. If you've done things mostly right, when all hope seems lost and it appe...

 This one's for you, Big Tony. 1. Wormweave  is a form of fabric from a woven-together colony of biomantically-altered worms that must be regularly fed and carefully tended to, lest it begin to grow threadbare as the worms sicken and die; Wormweave is coarse to the touch and prone to tearing even when healthy, but its ability to move independently or at a wearer's command makes popular among people who want animated fabric items on a budget. Wormweave fabrics have also been known to eat dead owners, and abandoned colonies have known to grow aggressive if left in the wild for too long, but that isn't something spoken of in polite company. Shut the hell up and enjoy your wind-free billowing cloak. 2. False Eyes have a horrifying niche: much like those isopods that sever the tongues of fish to take their place, these parasitic beetles devour and replace eyes. They prey on sleeping animals (including people), injecting a sedative venom into the host before burrowing into the ey...