“All fled, all done, so lift me on the pyre;
The feast is over and the lamps expire.”
From Robert. E. Howard suicide’s note.
“All fled, all done, so lift me on the pyre;
The feast is over and the lamps expire.”
From Robert. E. Howard suicide’s note.
Excerpts from “What was the Nerd?”
“Today’s American fascist youth is neither the strapping Aryan jock-patriot nor the skinheaded, jackbooted punk: The fascist millennial is a pasty nerd watching shitty meme videos on YouTube, listening to EDM, and harassing black women on Twitter. Self-styled “nerds” are the core youth vanguard of crypto-populist fascist movements.”
Continue reading “Agitator who defends looting calls nerds fascists, reader goes insane.”
Most animals may not need stats, but that doesn’t mean they may not have a few gameplay-related statistics. Small critters are like living traps: if you fail a check, something bad happens. A small poisonous spider you failed to spot may bite and inject you with a bone-splitting poison (yeah, I don’t know much about poisons,) a swarm of rats may eat your rations while you sleep, or a cat may be startled by your skulking attempts, alerting the whole castle. These may not be your standard encounters, but they add a little variety or, even, realism. Whatever annoyance you can imagine, most of these problems can be presented as ability, proficiency, or skill checks.
That will be my entire insightful commentary concerning the recent developments in the United States of Trumpmerica.