Difference between revisions of "Ghyll:Lake Crimin"
(* Heh. Feel free to remove this when you flesh it out. :: Grin :: *) |
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− | + | '''Lake Crimin''', many days walk southeast of the Principality of Jurra, is where ''they'' come from. They, them, those, that! I don't like ''them''. I don't like how they make me ''feel'', them being all shifty and detrimental makes ''me'' all shifty and detrimental. It's certainly not my fault, so it must be ''theirs'', and I don't like that, no, not... one... bit. | |
− | - | + | The ones without [[Dendel's Stripes|stripes]]. No stripes! Don't like 'em. But I'm here anyways. Not because I want to, but because I ''have'' to - my obsession with the brown fluid has become nothing less than a life mission, and its answers important enough to merit a larger 'a'. With my access to [[Dulalian Empire|Dulalia]] restricted, I've had to enlist the help of [[criminals]]. I don't like it and they don't like ''me''. Except for that other guy. With the big hands. |
− | + | Lake Crimin, on the outskirts of said [[Dulalian Empire|Empire]], is a ten [[lele]] wide beast which orders its stripeless hordes to commit atrocities unimagined. The constant fog that hangs over the lake makes visibility difficult, and this is its greatest gift: the blindness of not seeing the horrors of its deepest waters and its blackest skies. This has also flummoxed exploration, and you'll find some maps with islands, some maps without, and some maps with a big burn mark where the [[Religious Right]] scorched the demonia away. [[Criminals]] and the stripeless aliens like it here. Normal folks do not. Well, except for the fishermen... but they imported themselves from [[Shepenor]] in -445 [[EC]], actually ''preferring'' the taste of fish from the [[Qestarius River|Qestarius]] and tired and sick of the grief they earned because of it. | |
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+ | '''Citations''': [[Dendel's Stripes]], [[Dulalian Empire]], [[Religious Right]]. | ||
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+ | --[[User:Morbus Iff|Morbus Iff]] 14:53, 12 Aug 2005 (EDT) | ||
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+ | [[Category:Locations]] |
Latest revision as of 15:10, 19 September 2005
Lake Crimin, many days walk southeast of the Principality of Jurra, is where they come from. They, them, those, that! I don't like them. I don't like how they make me feel, them being all shifty and detrimental makes me all shifty and detrimental. It's certainly not my fault, so it must be theirs, and I don't like that, no, not... one... bit.
The ones without stripes. No stripes! Don't like 'em. But I'm here anyways. Not because I want to, but because I have to - my obsession with the brown fluid has become nothing less than a life mission, and its answers important enough to merit a larger 'a'. With my access to Dulalia restricted, I've had to enlist the help of criminals. I don't like it and they don't like me. Except for that other guy. With the big hands.
Lake Crimin, on the outskirts of said Empire, is a ten lele wide beast which orders its stripeless hordes to commit atrocities unimagined. The constant fog that hangs over the lake makes visibility difficult, and this is its greatest gift: the blindness of not seeing the horrors of its deepest waters and its blackest skies. This has also flummoxed exploration, and you'll find some maps with islands, some maps without, and some maps with a big burn mark where the Religious Right scorched the demonia away. Criminals and the stripeless aliens like it here. Normal folks do not. Well, except for the fishermen... but they imported themselves from Shepenor in -445 EC, actually preferring the taste of fish from the Qestarius and tired and sick of the grief they earned because of it.
Citations: Dendel's Stripes, Dulalian Empire, Religious Right.
--Morbus Iff 14:53, 12 Aug 2005 (EDT)