Blood, Plunder and D&D

  "Well, the Mithran nuns seem to have driven them off," Dakhir reported, lowering his hands and letting the spell fade. From far down the boulevard, he could see flashes of white light, far away, but even at this distance, so bright it was painful to look at directly.  "The ones that are still alive anyway you cooked so many of them it smells like a fried chicken buffet over by the river," Ricmo replied, impressed.  "Firing cannon on an unarmed civilian crowd, I am not shedding any tears for them," Freddy replied grimly. "They killed scores of unarmed men, women and children before we interfered." "The interference was certainly moral," Tello agreed. "However, I wonder what we have interfered IN exactly." A swirling gale announced Whisperleaf's arrival. He was difficult to see when he took the form of air, but there was enough dust and smoke around to outline the ten-foot tall conical whirlwind that was Whisperleaf. The s...

  I am not by any means the first to notice and comment on the mysterious behavior of Frenchmen. It’s something of a legendary thing. “So incredibly rude” says one visitor, “so lazy” says another.” “They make me want to punch them” says the American, “lebensraum” says the German. Why did that Frenchmen stop his car right in front of me, get out and leave? Why is he holding up this line while talking to a friend? Slow people on the right for Christ sake, let me pass! How long do I have to wait for some fucking service around here? So rude! All of these perspectives, while valid in their way, miss the mark. The Frenchman is not rude. The Frenchman cannot see you. Literally. He cannot see you, at least not under normal circumstances, not the way you see him. His brain edits you out of the signal coming from his optic nerve. You do not exist. To him, there is only empty air, or perhaps a barely perceived physical blockage, a rock perhaps or a tree. I know this theory sounds fantastic, ...

  Freeing the Spirits      Dakhir watched  as, with a mighty swing of his holy pickax, Saint Kinga struck the stone wall of the Overseer's chamber. The raw stone shuddered at the blow, and then, with an earsplitting 'crack,' the wall split, a narrow fissure radiating out from the point of impact, racing toward the floor and ceiling.       At first, the fissure was only an inch across, but it widened rapidly, now a handsbreadth, now a foot. The entire massive chamber shuddered and rocked.     Dakhir could see a yellow-white light emanating from the crack in the wall, faint at first but brightening rapidly.        The fissure was now several feet wide, leading back into the solid stone of the wall, the light shining from too bright to see where it might lead.     The chamber shook again, severely this time. A chunk of stone fell from the ceiling, almost landing on Ricmo, who barely managed to dodge out of...