Everyone's got a teaspoon of salt in their coin purse. Everyone civilized, at least. And not typical salt, either, but the magical and curative grey salt grisodate; the mineral by which tenuous civilization survives. * Steely grey grains, crushed to powder among the pence and the little farthings.
Death mechanics from the Incunabuli system playtest. Venturing is a dangerous job. People die. A venturesome cutter will likely witness the demise of many comrades over the course of their career. That is, if the selfsame cutter does not themselves meet a horrid end.
In modern times, the smoking of pepperelle is enjoyed throughout the Coast. In the South, where the herb was first popularized, cigarettes rolled from paper and leaf are overwhelmingly the favored means of pepperelle consumption. †† In the North, long-stemmed pipes are equally popular.
There was a rapping at the door. Wan eyes peered through faceted glass above the knocker, saw a Butler approach within. The latch turned under a white glove. A long-faced, tired man stood on the stoop. He clutched a battered black hat and a large medical bag, smelt of soap and whiskey. "Dr. Rammstein?" said the Butler. […]
Many hundreds of ribbons fluttered in the summer air. Ribbons, tied to the spikes of a hundred soldiers’ helms. Armored men and women grumbled, queued under the swelter. Rough hands fanned sweated necks, tugged clinging metal collars. “Butter me up and call me a beef, Suse. This is an oven,” said a freckly lass to […]