Like the Fancy Rat had been, the ISA Cornelius was a Diocletian-class modular starship, with a detachable spaceplane front end that could lot into an orbital quantum drive section.

The Vyeah had been attempting to turn it into an escape vehicle of their own, and its dock was littered with human and alien technology that was in the process of being yanked out, integrated, and otherwise made to work nicely together.

Jai was able to get the drop on the pair of Vyaeh techs working frantically on it. He had a notion of inviting them to pilot the ship in exchange for their lives, but they both grabbed for their weapons, which forced Jai to drop them both with his own.

The cockpit was a mess, but main power appeared to be operational, with the reentry shutters nominal, suborbital thrusters responding despite the control surface being written in Vyeah script, and the docking lugs stirred when Jai put a little power through them.

Outside the hangar, the sky was broiling an angry red–the last and most intense sunset the planet would ever see, and the temperature outside had already begun rising to an unfathomable degree. Jai whispered a few words of prayer, the first he had uttered in many years, before bringing the Cornelius to life. It responded, shuddering upward on its thrusters and sealing the hatch.

“Five minutes to orbit,” Jai murmured, pushing the craft as far as he could without ratting it apart. If his drive unit was still there, and the docking lugs still worked, there was a chance.

Not a big one, but a chance.

“The sky used to be blue,” Jai said, looking out the window as he closed the blast shield. “With a little luck, I’ll see a blue sky again.”

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They were always short-staffed at that particular branch of the Hopewell District Library, so it wasn’t unheard of for Mary to enter the building, alone, around 7:30am to open the place up. It was a three-day weekend, so in addition to no fellow staffers to help out at the library desk, no patrons were waiting by the door to be let in when it was unlocked.

Mary felt bad about what had happened the previous day, even though she kept on telling herself that she had no reason to. It was Adrian’s fault, after all, for invading her personal space. It was his fault for creeping on her and constantly pestering her for her work hours and requests for dates. She had nothing to feel bad about, she kept telling herself, but the feeling was still there, gnawing away, as she busied herself with checking in items from the overnight book drop.

“Are you familiar with the Egyptian book of the dead, Mary?”

Mary cried out and pushed back from the desk. It was Adrian; he must have quietly entered through the front doors despite not technically being allowed on the premises anymore. Mary wanted to do more than scream; she wanted to pick up the handset and dial the police.

The Glock 17 in an open-carry holster on Adrian’s belt dissuaded her.

“N-no,” she said. “I’m not.”

“Really? I’d expect a librarian to know those things.” Adrian was behind the desk now, approaching at an easy pace. “According to the Book of the Dead, or at least the version written on the walls inside of the Red Pyramid, the dead are forever dependent in the afterlife on their killers.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “What?”

“That’s right, Mary. I could take care of you forever; we’d always be together. I may not be able to give you what you need in this life, but surely I can in the next.”

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HERE LIES
Boris, the Evil Horse
Killed fighting a half-orc and a full-orc
Egged on by escaped prisoners
He died with his horseshoes on
Though not without an EXP penalty for acting out of alignment

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Wall of horrors without form
I see ony tendrils and eyes
Place-holders for the unseeable
A landscape alive with malice
Howling down, a storm of flesh
Make my escape, strangely calm
Seated on the back of a horror
That once was my best friend
Bone, chitin, membranes, eyes
Loping on impossible appendages
The face alone recognizable
Amid a terror scarcely less
Than the one I flee for my life

Inspired by this.

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In order to manifest itself upon the mortal world, Iazgu the Flayer had forced the artificers of Beamcog to craft a soul-gem housing its true essence. When its schemes fell apart, and its bid to take control of Beamcog by subtlety and force failed, the soul gem was captured by the canny hero Gora.

Soul gems being what they are, Gora had a choice: she could shatter the gem and banish Iazgu to the Darkness Beneath for all eternity, or she could issue it a single, binding command. The choice had to be made in an instant, as the demon raged at her in an attempt to reclaim its lost soul.

Gora’s solution?

She opened up an inn with the proceeds of her adventures, but like all inns it had need of hard labor in turning down sheets, serving drinks, and the like. Now, people come from miles around to the inn in order to watch, and mock, the once-mighty demon that is now condemned to serve as a chambermaid for all eternity.

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A land of unusual warmth for its latitude, and as notable for its hot springs as for the many miles of caverns that snake beneath it, the Caldera is the site of an ancient catastrophe. Millennia ago it was the site of a violent volcanic eruption, the cause of the Black Year written of in many chronicles, and the culprit behind the collapse of more than one ancient civilization. The cataclysm resulted in a crater-shaped depression surrounded by jagged peaks that are difficult to traverse in the summer and all but impassible in the winter, with only Screefall Pass to the south being open year-round.

The warmth and incredibly rich volcanic soil of the Caldera led to a period of intense settlement after memory of the eruption had faded. Colonies of humans, dwarves, and elves were all established, with the settlements of Vallia, Morinth’s Delving, and Welkor’s Light dating to this time. Pilgrims were also attracted from many of the faiths that had the Black Year as a centerpiece of their cosmology, and many ephemeral temples rose and fell in the area through time.

Perhaps the most notable figure to emerge from the Caldera was Minaka the Conqueror, who was born in Vallia and was able to use the Caldera as a base to carve out an empire for herself. Her tomb, carved into living volcanic rock, is the centerpiece of a great abandoned necropolis–the Valley of the Dead–that houses the bodies of many of Minaka’s most powerful friends and advisors. Unfortunately, Minaka the Conqueror died without an heir, and her incompetent nephew led her realm to dissolution within a generation.

The Caldera has largely remained a backwater since Minaka’s empire fell, attracting a steady number of visitors to its hot springs and a diminishing number of religious pilgrims to the crumbling sites of fading faiths. It has largely wound up being in thrall to whoever has occupied the large walled city of Ulat to the south of Screefall Pass, and the population has been in decline as its remoteness has grown with the turmoil of the world.

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The sliver enlarges the wasteful ice, yet the blow volunteers that same ice. When does the weather enhance the freezing wood? The vessel prepares the moldy regret.

The oil enlists the fire. The way influences the flame. The mature peace crystallizes into the burn.

The balance hangs on the meal. How does the meal modernize the ordinary person? Why does the rapid attack execute the grain, but not the spit-roasted meat?

The ray conveys the wave, the thunder leads the increase. All is extinguished, but the flames.

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I see them there, every time I pull up: the three stacked traffic lights at the intersection of Van Buren Avenue and Lewis Street. People drive by them every day, twice a day or more, without noticing.

But I do. I know their secret. I see it every time one goes dark, imperiously stopping me or sending me on my way. Tiny skulls, in shadows of amber, crimson, or jade, leering out of the glass.

I’ve tried pointing them out, bringing people into my confidence about the evil that has overtaken that intersection. But they all laugh or cluck their tongues, saying things about LED lights and optical illusions. But I am not fooled; I know better.

Those lights are the locus of all that is evil in the world, a poisonous seed spreading tendrils throughout a tranquil garden.

I know what I must do.

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Devtpo – A large but sparsely populated barony in southern Pexate known for its peaks, straddling as it does the Gambeaux Range that helps divide Pexate from Layyia. Its remoteness and solitude have led the Sepulcher to establish many monastaries there. Due to the danger from marauders and Layyian raids, most of the monastaries are fortified and manned by guards, doubling as fortresses.

Toan – A large city on the river, Toan has long been a gateway for shipping inland goods that come from the southern sea, as all but the largest boats can sail up the river to reach it. This gives Toan a cosmopolitan air and its marketplaces and back alleys are among PExate’s most powerful engines of commerce. As a barony, it is among the smallest, encompassing only the city itself and a bit of the surrounding countryside as a legacy of its former status of a Liberated City of the Crimson Empire. It is also ruled by a bishop rather than a baron, thanks to its status as a coveted prize and the Sepulcher’s reputation for neutrality

Exor – A barony in central Pexate, directly on the border with Layyia. It has been the site of many battles between Pexate and Layyia, and as a result has traditionally been allowed considerable latitude to defend itself. Known for its iron mines and high-quality steel, Exor blades have long been the arms of choice for the kings of Pexate.

Hecoran – A mostly rural barony in central Pexate notable for its many rivers and dense hardwood forests. Like Exor it borders Layyia and has been the site of many a clash between the two kingdoms. Its hardwoods are prized for furniture, and it also has many sites at which the components of gunpowder may easily be gathered.

Ioxus – A large barony in the plains of central Pexate and home of many herds of wild and feral horses. The capture, breaking, and training of hoses has long been its specialty, and Ioxans in general are known for their horsemanship. The barony provides heavy cavalry, scouts, and many other essential troops. It is also a matriarchal barony in that power passes from mother to daughter rather than father to son, a feature that Ioxus has carried over from its long-ago existance as an independent principality.

Gattne – A barony in northern Pexate consisting mostly of wild grasslands and home to the majority of sheep in the kingdom. Its vast herds of sheep have also made it a center of dyeing and weaving. The city of Bleachfield is particularly noted for its textiles, and its finery is famous throughout the land. Bleachfield has been the source of clothes for the Pexate court for centuries, the process behind their brillian “Bleachfield Crimson” a closely-guarded trade secret.

Varrett – A barony in the north of Pexate, notably covered by Greywacke Wood, the largest and densest forest in the kingdom. Its people are notoriously hardy warriors, most of them having hunted from an early age, and forestry is the basis for most of its economy. Notably, Varrett’s forests and fortified crags at Aiov and Ogre’s Reach have meant that it has never been conquered.

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Much as Vallis was founded by humans after the catastophe that created the Caldera, so too were Morinth’s Delving and Welkor’s Light founded by dwarven and elvish colonists, respectively.

In the north of the Caldera, the dwarven colonists stumbled upon a warren of volcanic caverns and subterranean steam vents created from empty magma chambers. This ready-made dwelling also had access to veins of precious metals, plenty of room for growth, and many avenues of access for trade with both the surface and the Underdark. Within a generation, a powerful line of dwarven dukes had arisen, and for many years they were the primary power within the Caldera. While many of the mines have closed, and other colonies have since eclipsed Morinth’s Delving, Morinth IX still rules over a wealthy and potent kingdom.

Welkor’s Light was an aboveground settlement dedicated to studying the potent magical aftereffects of the calamity that created the Caldera. A fortress set on a wooded crag, it clowly grew to encompass a full-fledged community of elves despite its beginning as a mere research outpost. There was continual tension between Welkor, the leader of the settlement, and the various members of Morinth’s line, each accusing the other of a variety of misdeeds. In time, though, Welkor’s Light became a powerful fortress, capable of withstanding a lengthy siege and a powerful producer of artifacts in its own right.

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