So post 'em here, those little snippets that might get overheard in a tavern or grafitti'd on the side of the local brothel.  High fantasy, low fantasy, doesn't matter.

"They said orcs came in the night and butchered that little village out near the Henge.  But I've never known orcs wear the Kings colours, and I've never known their eyes glow green."

"They say old Farnsworth got the Stitcher last month. Killed his wife and all eight kids, yanked out their guts, sewed 'em back up with their bellies full o' hot coals. Found him half-burned layin' in the fireplace. Last thing he said as they hung 'im was, 'So cold.' I've a mind to head south if it happens a third time."

"Did ya hear about old Jed? They found him dead. High in a tree in McMasters woods. He was clutching his bow and an empty water skin."

"Oooh, d'ja hear 'bout, eh, ol' Mistress Kalandra's daughter, eh?  Oooh, aye, they says she's eighteen summers, come this'n, an' dumb's the boy ain't goes courtin' 'er!  'Course her mum bein', eh, a sorceress..."

"Know dat cliff up the meadow t'other side of the lake? Talks. Mey ma told me it's mean, too.  Et Uncle Chaz right up.  'Course, Uncle Chaz was never the most diplomatic of men."

Wizards? Don't trust 'em, wouldn't ever work with 'em.  Why?  Where do you think their "magic" comes from?  I'll tell you, it comes from the nearness of Death.  The closer they can get to Death the more "magic" they have.  Why else go down into those old dungeons and caves, hunting and killing.  It's not for the treasure - they could magic all the treasure they wanted - but everytime one of the group gets caught on a trap, or eaten by slime; or if a creature gets killed, or anyone gets wounded, they get more magic.

Where did you think Liches really came from?

If a slaad bites you, a week later you turn into a slaad.  Or maybe it was the claws?  Either way, don't get cut!

If a green slaad survives long enough it turns into a gray slaad, and gray slaads can turn into so-called "death slaadi."  But few people know that there's another stage of evolution beyond the death slaad, and another after that... I figure that the entire slaad race is slowly evolving towards some perfect slaad.  Oh, what about the reds and the blues?  You don't want to know.

I may be past 80 winters now, lad, but when I was a boy, and the world was summer, I went into that wood, the same one just past the river.  By older brother had gone in, and pest that I was, I was going to find him.

I wandered farther and farther in, as the multiplying treetops slowly turned the full daylight into a dim cast.  Oh, I was a sneak back then, but even I didn't think I'd ever sneak up on a band of elves.

But there they were, in a clearing just in front of me.  I peeked out from behind a giant oak!  Elves!  The long-lived, master bowmen, faerie creatures not entirely of this world!  Said to be enchanters and enchantresses, with the ability to sing to the trees themselves!  They were, lithe, gaily clothed, fair of skin and hair, and so incredibly, amazingly beautiful, with an aura of grace and beauty.



They were eating the remains of my brother.  Raw.

Halflings don't worship gods but hundreds of saints.  It is the priests' job to remember them all and know which to invoke on which situation.

Dopplegangers have a complicated society, though they rarely all gather together too often.  But when they do they drink and share the shapes and the lives they have inhabited, gaining identity through the faces they've stolen.  It is only when one dies is a doppleganger given a name of his own, so that death will know to take him to the Shifting Heavens, their idea of an afterlife.

When Constanz the Betrayed was slain at the Battle of Dobrow, it is said he was found surrounded by a mountain of bodies with his great sword gripped tightly in his hands and covered in the blood of many enemies. The priest who prepared his body for burial were forced to break his fingers to separate the sword from his hands so that his heirs may use it to maintain the kingdom.

When his dynasty finally fell, the sword moved through the hands of many owners. All have spoken of the blade seeming to hum when the owner has been faced with deception by those he trusted, though ultimately they all fell to betrayal.  

Now it is said it is the hands of a bandit in the Western Woods.  Some even whisper that he is Constanz returned, building an army to retake his kingdom.