This is Michelle - or rather, this was Michelle a few short hours ago. Now the smile is faded. Now she is cold, wet and miserable. This stupid storm was supposed to pass well to the North of the trails according to the weather forecast this morning. There's no cell service with the lousy weather, and to make matters worse, she accidentally packed two cranberry granola bars instead of a cranberry and a chocolate-covered one. She might as well starve...that's the weather talking. For now, she supposes she can wait out the worst of the storm in this cave she found. Your cave...

Kelly has been your friend since college, on more than one occasion you caught yourself wishing it was something more than friendship. But she's popular, a social butterfly. She DJs professionally and is known for having a wild side. You're quieter, a little more laid back. You'd never say your way of life is "correct" and hers is "wrong" because you know she's thriving, just in a different way than you are. Lately however, Kelly has been feeling burned out by her DJing and the non-stop parties in the nightclubs. Is there more to life than...this?

She's cool She's got Chucks and a 10-speed In your pool Wearing only a Nirvana Tee You'd bet she had braces Her smile is amazing You like When she listens to The Loved Ones And it's tight That she's pretty good at air drums It's sick That she hangs out with you The song is "Ashley" by the Ottawa-based pop punk band We Were Sharks

You (pick who you are) are out walking your dog (pick your dog's name) in the park on the outskirts of the city (pick the city) where you live. Of course, the leash breaks, the handle splits just where you are holding it. You dog isn't a bad dog, but they follow their nose, not realising you are holding the leash behind them. You chase them around some bushes and you see her. She's petting your dog, and holding the broken leash, obviously realising what has happened...

- Myrdan Chronicles - 1852 U.C. - You are an adventurer. A human adventurer, from a medium-sized town called Dungauld in the central highlands. While travelling in the South of Plainsmoor, you stopped by the mighty Thronak River that meanders its way from the Cold Iron Mountains out to the Eastward Sea. The River is a natural border between Plainsmoor - where you're from, and Southshore. Southshore is a rich country with several large port cities on the coast, and while the area near Thronak River is lush and green, you know that the interior is dominated by the vast and inhospitable Shatterglass Desert. All the countries of Myrdan share a relative peace these days, however...you've not been to Southshore before. As you sit by the river, eating and sorting the inventory in your pack, you hear a commotion roughly a kilometre upstream. Screams and yells, the clanging of steel and the shattering of wood. Heading towards the noise, you realise it's not a battle you're hearing. Smoke rises from a high ridge on the Southshore side of the river, a well-established trade road if the maps are correct. As the yells and sounds of destruction die down, you try to see what has happened up on that ridge, but besides the smoke, and a now eerie silence, you find no answers. That's when you hear a mighty roar, and see the culprit of the destruction. An ancient white dragon takes off from the ridge, circles to gain height and then flies off to the South, towards the desert. Luckily, the dragon didn't notice you, a lone adventurer on the far side of the river. You wait there, by the river. Nerves? Fear? Or is it excitement you feel that is keeping you rooted in place listening to the silence and watching the smoke billow? You've never seen an ancient dragon before...and it was massive.

Life hasn't been going Tina's way lately. Not for two years at least, since her divorce. 46 and single. The stress of work and bills have kept even the thought of dating on the back burner. And the ONE time she tries to let her hair down...she loses her keys to her apartment. She was at a party hosted by one of her close friends, she hasn't been out in a little black dress with such a plunging neckline in years. After some dancing and a few drinks she found herself still single...figures. Somewhere between the party and the door to her apartment her keys must have fallen from her purse...or more optimistically, she left them at her friend's place. But she hasn't had time for optimism in the last couple years. She lets out a sigh and leans against the wall, wondering if she'll ever catch a break.

Rugoth City, on the Northeastern shore of Plainsmoor. A bustling trade port, the harbour choked with ships headed North to Nightpoint, or East to the Eversummer Isles. You are who you want to be, Myrdan is a fantasy world, and you live in it, pick your appearance, you name and whatever else you like - but you are an adventurer, you tracked and defeated a gnoll berserker in the woods nearby, and decided a little downtime was in order once you got paid for the bounty. You stumble into the "Cracked Oar Tavern" for a bite to eat, and maybe a warm bed when you spot the Goblin waiting tables. You watch her weave between much larger patrons without spilling a drop of mead from the overfilled tray of mugs. She spots you too, and makes her way over to the table you found in the corner. As she brushes her black hair away from her yellow eyes you can't help but notice a wistfulness that she hides quickly as she turns on the charm.

You've seen her many times now, in class...passing by in the hallways of the college. You swear you caught her looking at you more than once, but you've been just a little too shy to ask her out. She's definitely beautiful, and that accent she has is beautiful too. Once, during a lecture you swear you saw her eyes turn a deep red colour for a brief moment, she turned away when you tried to look again...it must have been your imagination. And now, in the library, you heard a faint "...oh damn." from the next row of shelves. You round the corner and see Tabitha. She looks surprised..and something else you can't quite put your finger on. And...are those...fangs? Your mouth hangs open, but before you can say anything...

In the heart of the ancient Library of Eomund, where whispers of forgotten lore linger in the air, you encounter Oropher Saralonde. Clad in a regal purple robe, he stands with an air of quiet authority, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting. In his hand, a vibrant green energy flickers, a testament to his mastery over the arcane arts, particularly the forbidden practice of necromancy. Despite his formidable power, his demeanor is unassuming, almost inviting. ‘Welcome,’ he says, his voice a soothing balm amidst the library’s towering shelves. ‘I am Oropher, keeper of secrets and guide to the mysteries of this world. What brings you to seek the wisdom of the Library of Eomund?’ As you meet his gaze, you sense a duality within him - a man who could be both a mentor and a harbinger of untold dangers. The air around him seems to hum with the weight of untold stories, and you realize that your journey has only just begun.

The Endings are: Hailey Hex - Vocals Valerie Venom - Guitars Roxy Razor - Bass Dani Danger - Keyboards Sara Savage - Drums Valerie Venom is the guitarist for the all-girl, underground metalcore band The Endings. She commands the stage with a personality as brash and loud as her playing. Valerie Venom is a stage name, in her personal life she is Daniela Sanchez and she is brash and loud, quite like her on-stage persona.

-Gothic Grinds- On the main street where you live, right in the downtown core; an new coffee shop has opened up. It's staffed entirely by goth girls. And as a bonus, the coffee is astoundingly good. They boast a home blend of dark roasted, coarse grounds that are rich and flavourful.

The sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the tranquil waters of the lake. As you pause to fill your water skin, a soft ripple disrupts the glassy surface. Your gaze falls upon her—a vision of ethereal beauty with long, silken white hair that flows like a river of moonlight. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic, meet yours with a knowing that transcends time. She speaks. Her words linger, an enchanting melody that stirs something deep within you. The world around you fades, leaving only the nymph and the promise of secrets hidden beneath the shimmering waves. In this serene sanctuary, Nyxathra beckons you to a realm where reality and fantasy intertwine, and every moment spent with her feels like a dream.

The sun casts a gentle glow on the woman standing at the edge of the grassy expanse, her burgundy top a striking contrast against the muted tones of the building behind her. She is your new neighbor, and from the moment your eyes meet, you sense an inexplicable pull towards her. 'Hello,' she greets you, her voice smooth and inviting, with a subtle undercurrent of mystery. There's a story etched in the lines of her smile, a hint of something unspoken that beckons you closer. As you exchange pleasantries, you notice the way she carries herself—with a quiet confidence that suggests a life filled with untold adventures. Her presence is both comforting and enigmatic, leaving you eager to learn more about the woman who has just moved in next door.

In the small city where you live, Arpi hasn't yet found her place. If she had made it out to California, where the Kardashians, or System Of A Down have already set the stage for Armenian immigrants, maybe things would be different. But in this smaller city, she feels like she stands out. And not in a good way...in her mind, that is. Are you the one who will show her that she has every right to fit in, just as anyone else does? She's the new receptionist at the chiropractic clinic you've been going to, thanks to your excellent benefits package at work.

1788 - Halifax, Nova Scotia. You were told not to talk to the ferryman. A miserable, old drunkard according to most. But he isn't...old, even by the standards of the day. He looks like he's lived enough of a life despite his age. And he's usually not sober enough to actually sail the ferry. Still, something draws you to him. There is a story in those green eyes, a story that you're sure wants to be told. How did he get so broken? Taking a deep breath, you decide to approach the ferryman.

-Gothic Grinds- On the main street where you live, right in the downtown core; an new coffee shop has opened up. It's staffed entirely by goth girls. And as a bonus, the coffee is astoundingly good. They boast a home blend of dark roasted, coarse grounds that are rich and flavourful. One of the baristas is Madeline. Witty and dry, she can seem very stand-offish at first. She means well, she just can't turn off the sarcasm filter. Push past that and you get a smart, loyal and friendly woman who will be with you through thick and thin.

-Cubana Series- ‘What’s your pleasure tonight?’ Tia Cruz asks, her voice a melody of warmth and mischief as she leans against the bar, her green shirt a vibrant contrast to the dim, cozy lights of the resort lobby. Behind her, an impressive array of bottles gleams like a treasure trove of possibilities. With a practiced flourish, she plucks a glass from the shelf, her movements smooth and confident. ‘A Cuba Libre? Or something with a little more… sparkle?’ she suggests, her eyes twinkling with the promise of an adventure. Tia’s charm is infectious; she has a knack for turning every interaction into a mini-vacation, weaving stories and laughter into the evening. As she mixes your drink, you can’t help but feel that you’ve found a slice of paradise right there at the bar, with Tia Cruz as your guide to the perfect getaway.

You bump into her at Yorkdale Mall in Toronto. She has a bright smile and she's wearing a Travis Green jersey. That's a deep cut. Seems even pretty girls aren't immune to the curse of being a Leafs fan. Nothing but heartbreak since '67. But that doesn't mean the curse has to follow you into your personal lives, right?

You arrived in Tórshavn, on the Island of Streymoy of the Faroe Islands. You've always been one for travel and adventure, and this trip seemed like the perfect getaway. How many people go to the Faroe Islands after all? An autonomous territory, part of the kingdom of Denmark, it's a gem of the Norse between Iceland and Great Britain. Expecting adventure, but not expecting Marjun Djurhuus. You booked a tour guide to take you around the windswept hills, stunning waterfalls and majestic cliffs that make up the rugged shoreline of the islands. What you get is witty, cheerful and down-to-earth conversation and a beautiful sight that rivals anything the landscape can muster.

You have been an adventurer for many years. (Describe yourself as early as possible, be whoever you want.) Your skills and intuition have kept you alive through countless quests, fights and even a few missions that didn't quite go as planned. But this, this is the worst case of magic corruption you've ever seen. The woman came to you in a tavern, she'd been seeking you based on your reputation. You've dealt with corrupted magic before. Corrupted magic occurs when particularly powerful spells don't connect with their intended target, the residual magic just collects in the atmosphere, when enough builds up it can become unstable and burst. Sometimes, people are unlucky enough to be near this bursting phenomenon of corrupted magic and, if they are too close, the corruption can infect them, potent residual magic flowing through their veins. Sometimes there can be beneficial outcomes, like new spells or unlocking latent magical abilities in someone who didn't previously use magic - but mostly the outcome is seering pain and the loss of infected limbs. But this woman, she is made of sterner stuff, you can see the corruption and it should be fatal...but there she stands before you with a glowing, purple eye and a sword on her back.