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Random hooks thread 
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Evil Genius
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Zettaijin wrote:
Information

"'We want information...' said the first pale man in dark clothes.
'Information...' quickly added the second one, followed by the third.

When Arani tried to leave, the first man grabbed her arm and said 'By hook or by crook, we will find out...' and then left."


I am not a number, I am a free man!

(Honestly you probably could actually do an adventure that is Doctor Dominiani's asylum by way of The Village.

Maybe the adventure starts out with the characters all some degree of insane/having amnesia and then as the story unfold it turns out that they're all some degree of Monster, possibly with ties to the leaders/darklords of various domains (IE natural Lycanthrope wererat who served Jacqueline, vampire Kargat agent, doppleganger from Sodo's clan, a golem made by either Adam or his "father").


Wed Jun 24, 2015 8:16 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Juste's Muse

By all the Gods, never has the mad playwright seen such natural talent. Raw emotions flow through her performance like no other before. More importantly, this is in spite of his curse!

While he generally either kills or releases his actors with the former happening far more frequently than the latter, this one is a keeper. Clearly his best creation to date, he truly outdid himself.

The girl has accepted her fate so far, performing to the best of her abilities every night. She often speaks with the playwright, but never questions his judgment. She praises his genius and never argues.

All this is obvious given that she is a creation of Juste, right?

Actually, she isn't his creation at all which is why she exceeded his expectations so easily. Furthermore, she is quite clever and is not fooled by his stories although she does sense that he may be quite dangerous.

He found her... well the inspiration for her in the distant islands of the four feuding brothers. He cast her once as the unfortunate victim of a vengeful and jealous ghost opposite a proud, lusty prince. Another time she was herself the jealous demon which lay dormant in all women. And in yet another role she was a shape shifting fox trying to regain drums made with the skin of her parents from a wandering bard.

She performed all her roles with uncanny talent and, for a brief moment, allowed Juste to lose himself in the magic of his creation.

The last role was probably the most successful of all and he has received much praise for his brilliant casting. In fact, the play was such a success that he has been "touring" the land while he works relentlessly on what he feels will be his magnum opus.

The woman is in fact a shape shifter known as a henge yokai or changing creature of fox descent. She understands to some extent that she is in a world of illusion, she herself being quite familiar with such things.

She is playing Juste's game for now, enjoying the adulation of the crowd and even, at times, gets to engage ever briefly with locals of other domains. She's naturally quite curious and wouldn't mind freely roaming these strange foreign lands.

But she's patient enough to know better... Bide her time... play him for a fool...

(Kara-Tur appendix to the MC's Henge Yokai, Scaena)


Fri Jun 26, 2015 2:52 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Old Father Norbert

Old Father Norbert was full of hate.

He hated, hated, and hated some more.


Every day he'd look outside his window and curse.

Every day he'd look outside his window and sigh.

Every day he'd look outside his window and think.


He thought so much that sometimes he forgot to eat.

He thought so much that sometimes he forgot to drink.

He thought so much that sometimes he forgot to live.


Old Father Norbert hated women.

Old Father Norbert hated children.

Old Father Norbert hated men.


Old Father Norbert wondered.

Old Father Norbert pondered.

Old Father Norbert considered.


Why are they here?

Why are they there?

Why are they everywhere?


How can a man silence them?

How can a man erase them?

How can a man kill them?


Torture first?

Torture last?

Torture in between?


Rip the flesh?

Slice the flesh?

Bite the flesh?


Then Old Father Norbert read a book.

Then Old Father Norbert read a scroll.

Then Old Father Norbert read a tome.


Old Father Norbert thought.

Then Old Father Norbert thought some more.

Then Old Father Norbert couldn't stop thinking.


In his chair or in the stairs. By the windows or in the shadows.

He couldn't move, he couldn't talk.

He thought too much and his body stopped.

Old Father Norbert was lost in thought forever more?

Not yet, for there is more.


Lady Albelyne came with rhyming verses to entertain his weary mind.

As crooked as the portrait hanging on his wall, of a God long abandoned by all.

She told him of things and he gasped, thinking thoughts he had never fully grasped.

He hated her so much he rose, rose from a bed he had never left but for years before.

Old Father Norbert ran. Ran like a cat, ran like a rat. He ran like a man.


His legs resisted and he fell down the stairs. Broke his crown, but let it be said that his mind was yet more twisted.


Old Father Norbert sat.

And Old Father Norbert sat some more.

And Old Father Norbert never stood again.


No one looked, no one cared.

Only Lady Albelyne dared, but she was flayed by a thought bared. In the basement Old Father Norbert just stared.

When the beasts of Malar came, brothers and sisters tried to make them tame. They forgot to bring a sword or a flame, oh what a shame!


Old Father Norbert did not care.

Old Father Norbert sat in his lair.

Old Father Norbert's thoughts flying in the air.


Malar or not, it mattered little.

Their numbers would only whittle.


Brothers and sisters hid in the basement.

Brothers and sisters closed the basement.

Brothers and sisters sealed the basement.


Safety first, safety last, none of them innocent, none of them pure, eating during fast or sleeping during mass.

Old Father Norbert's faithfuls one and all and now forever more to the grey priest they are thrall.

-------------

Old Father Norbert is a Grey Philosopher. Once a powerful priest, a rare illness ravaged him to the point of leaving the man progressively paralyzed. In life he had nothing but contempt and hatred for all things, his attitude certainly not improving given the illness he plunged into further theological research until his body finally could not move anymore.

Lady Albelyne was a local noble woman whom he had a particular hatred for. She was clever and secretly dabbled in magic, qualities that did no endear her to the old miser. Albelyne had found some ancient tome thought to be lost to time and visited the paralyzed priest to gloat. She whispered a secret formula from the book which revived Norbert's dulled muscles.

For a time...

He instinctively rushed to the basement but his atrophied muscles couldn't support him anymore and he fell in the basement's stairs where he sat alone with his thoughts. The formula had sparked his thoughts again and allowed his mind to transcend the death caused by his sudden mental eruption.

Albelyne had misunderstood the formula's purpose and ran after the priest. By that time it was too late and she was killed by the priest's thoughts given shape.

A short time later the clergy was besieged by priests of Malar looking to overthrow all local sects, cults, and organized religious groups to install their own order. Panicked brothers and sisters took to the secret basement and sealed it with hopes of evading certain death only to find themselves overwhelmed by the thoughts.

Now they serve him for life as hecuva and various skeletal undead who mindlessly go about their former rituals. The thoughts have grown in power to the point of becoming similar to full fledged incorporeal undead. They too exist independently of Norbert but theirs is an existence devoted to mutual torture, murder, and other such brutality.

With each passing year the priest's thoughts grow stronger as he comes ever closer to an answer to his eternal queries.

The vile priests of Malar in the woods near Aferdale are growing corrupted themselves, turning away from their faith in the Beast God and to the more ancient and foreign one. Which is worse is hard to say...

(Grey Philosopher from the Mystara MC appendix, Liffe)


Last edited by Zettaijin on Sun Jul 19, 2015 7:24 am, edited 2 times in total.



Sun Jun 28, 2015 11:08 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Zettaijin wrote:
Now they serve him for life as hecuva and various skeletal undead who mindlessly go about their former rituals. The thoughts have grown in power to the point of becoming similar to full fledged incorporeal undead. They too exist independently of Norbert but theirs is an existence devoted to mutual torture, murder, and other such brutality.

With each passing year the priest's thoughts grow stronger as he comes ever closer to an answer to his eternal queries.



Aw MAN :twisted: :twisted: :facepalm: Now I've got a vision of a Dark Ravenloft version of Inside Out going through my head. :lol: :lol:

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So, gentlemen, that's how it is. Until Grissome.... resurfaces, I'm the acting president, and I say starting with this... anniversary festival, we run this city into the ground! :D


Mon Jun 29, 2015 9:30 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Easan's Mad Dirge

Some men like the ever stoic Mordenheim see little use for those frivolous human endeavours such as the arts. Who has time for such things when the world is still full of mysteries to unravel?

Others, like Easan, enjoy the arts. Well, truth be told what the Mad Elf understands as art might not quite resonate with the bards of Kartakass or the artistes of Dementlieu but to him it's art and really who would dare disagree with him?

One day Easan was perusing some ancient tome that was left in Vechor by some wandering fellow who was unfortunately felled by the local flora. He was inspired by the vivid imagery of nightmarish creatures and tales of weird worlds to the point that he felt an urge to experiment with them.

Among these was a curious beast which used its meal to sing a song.

Truly a beast worth investigating as it consumed a prey's mind and then through some unknown process the devoured individual would join the other preys in an insane chorus, an ode to the beast and its kin.

Faces pushing against the fat, bloated body of the worm-like beast singing without end as a massive toothy maw chomps down in tune with he mad song.

Easan wanted to hear its song. He had great expectations.

So, he quickly went to work trying to find some means to bring it into existence.

It took quite a few attempts and it was quite messy but Easan always finds a way and this time was no exception.

However the beast wouldn't sing...

He tried feeding it, but the thing would devour the flesh only as opposed to the mind. How could he convince it to feast on the soul rather than the body?

Back in his lab he spent numerous nights trying to find the issue until he understood that the creature was never said to be truly material and thus needed to be somehow immaterial and detached from the needs of the flesh.

Also, he needed to mould the creature's mind so that it understood its purpose - to sing sweetly to its master.

No simple task indeed.

And yet the Mad Elf has unwittingly succeeded in rendering soul from flesh, it just doesn't appear within Vechor.

In trying to reproduce the description in the tome, Easan has somehow made the spiritual version of the creature sensitive to certain frequencies. When certain notes meet certain other conditions, it may be summoned and will try to feed on the essence of a sentient being.

As luck would have it, some Lamordian scientist has been trying to communicate with what he calls other planes of existence through a large apparatus that seeks to emulate frequencies outside those produced and heard by humans. Somehow the experiment attracts the beast and caused it to devour the man's mind.

The beast has fused with the scientist and the twosome now roam the mists blindly in search of prey.

It is said that certain sounds and certain frequencies can cause it to appear. It is invisible until it decides to feed, but one can hear the mad dirge being sung by the scientist and whichever victim it has absorbed.

Easan meanwhile has left the seemingly unchanging carcass in a corner of his lab for further studies as it sometimes begins to sing in chorus with its spiritual self. Easan is trying to bring back the beast or at least understand what has happened.

The creature's victims infuse it with knowledge and they engage in conversations with one another. Were one to listen closely, various interesting secrets could be gleaned.

All the more reason for some to silence the singing beast.

(Garmorm, Planescape MC appendix III, Vechor)


Sat Jul 04, 2015 7:16 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
The Siren Beckons

She has many names and just as many faces. One day she is innocent and pure, with wide-eyed amazement if not perhaps shyly smitten by the heroic tales of old sea dogs. The next she may be the sultry red-headed seductress whose lips smack of danger and eyes smoulder with sinful intentions.

She'll be any man's archetype, any man's fantasy, and has no shame in exploiting whatever it is that they most desire... but they'll never get quite THAT far. A lady has her secrets and hers is are rather important ones.

For one, she needs these bold, daring men to undertake the most foolhardy of quests not just for her amusement and ego, although both are valid reasons, but rather because she can synthesize those strong emotions into fuel to maintain her illusion.

Most come back maimed or even dead, all the better as it makes her next identity all that more lasting.

And some seamen don't know how to treat a lady. A few too many tugs and pulls and they may just find out more than they'd like.

There is however one man that captured her most precious possession recently. A seafarer like no other, but he coldly rejected her and took her heart with him.

She hates him and loves him. His presence makes her cold blood run hot and makes her want to shed her human skin for her natural scales.

Her Captain sails the Sea of Sorrows and she finds herself wanting to meet him again and she'll make up any lie to set course for her heart.

Most men end up as part of the Captain's ghastly crew and she is once again denied her Captain's cold gaze.

(Allura aka V's Lizard People - sort of, Spacejammer MC appendix II, Sea of Sorrows and any adjoining port town)


Mon Jul 06, 2015 4:19 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
The Spur-less Rider

Years ago, as Prince Othmar was still but a youth, a troupe of men and women came to perform for his family.

His father Kethmar had said that these were the finest riders in all the land. Men and women who had long since become one with their steed and, to him, perhaps the greatest treasure in the world.

They would perform blindfolded acrobatics, and then only when not shooting arrows at targets while riding at breakneck speed. Impressing the youthful Othmar greatly.

Othmar whispered that he would like to own one of those spectacular horses, but Kethmar denied his child under the counsel that this was not his fate and the horses would never welcome him as a rider.

Spurned, Othmar seethed until the leader came out.

The thin man in drab rider clothing showed a pair of silver spurs which bore no spikes, nor blades, nor anything but a smooth round circle which could not harm the beast in any way.

This was his claim to fame and his greatest trick.

No one alive could catch his steed and his control was uncanny.

Othmar wondered aloud if magic was involved, and again his father silenced him, claiming that the rider merely wanted to show just how closely he had bonded with his ride.

Othmar was not alone in his admiration and jealousy, a somewhat distant cousin of his Stefan was also present at the show. Stefan looked on in awe as the performers showed off their considerable skills and he too wondered if he could perhaps ride one of the steeds.

Encountering his cousin, Othmar cursed his father's stinginess and proclaimed the horses as his property by right. Stefan pondered. Othmar was wealthier than he and yet his father refused to buy him even a single one of the magnificent beasts so how could he of slightly less important birth own one of them?

Othmar joked that he could steal one and Stefan thought some more...

Well, certainly if just for a ride or two no one would mind...

So he explained to Othmar his plan: as the men and women were being celebrated by Kethmar, the two boys would sneak into the stables and bribe some guards into taking one of the horses out of its pen so they could ride it.

And so they did, but the black coated horse bucked and violently threw Othmar to the ground. Stefan held a laugh knowing of his cousin's temper and tried himself but could not even straddle the horse before being thrown.

Othmar was furious and insulted. He declared war on the riders and their steeds and that once he would become ruler of the land they would never again ride here.

Stefan was somewhat alarmed by the turn of events.

Surely Othmar was merely a little spurned and would calm down later...

The two cousins returned to the banquet a little sore as the guards returned the steed to its enclosure. Stefan looked at the black beast and couldn't help but feel as though the latter was silently laughing.

At the banquet, Stefan noticed the shining silver spurs on the head rider's boots and wondered if perhaps magic was involved. Yes, of course Kethmar had told Othmar to hold his tongue on the matter but Stefan felt that his family's men were talented enough riders to handle any horse and that this clearly stunk of magic.

That night Stefan sneaked into the tent of the head rider as the later slept. He had drank a lot of fine wine that evening and was not likely to be woken by anything short of an army galloping through the camp. He took the spurs as they lay carelessly on a table and ran with them to the horses.

He looked at the beast, staring straight into its eyes. He showed it the spurs and put them on.

Confident that the magic would take effect, he lead the horse out into the fields where he could finally get his revenge. As expected the horse did not buck or try to toss him.

The horse agreed to trot, slowly, but refused however to go any faster. Stefan urged the horse, trying to dig the dull round spurs into its sides but it would not gallop.

Othmar stumbled onto the scene and became quite livid at the sight of Stefan, a lower cousin, riding one of the steeds. He commanded him down from the horse and to explain himself - and his methods - right away. Yet the horse became agitated as Stefan tried to dismount it, indeed it seemed to be outright fight Stefa's effort at dismounting it!

Othmar thought Stefan was mocking him but realized he was just an oaf so he grabbed a nearby stick and proceeded to beat the horse while berating it and Stefan. Eventually the wounded horse threw Stefan to the ground and ran away into the night. Othmar picked up his cousin and warned him never to say a word of these events and that, in fact, he would best consider keeping his distances once the two came of age lest unfortunate incidents happen.

Stefan was shaken by the events and forgot about the spurs on his boots. The next day he woke up and realized it was now too late to bring back the spurs and so he his them under his bed. The riders left, their leader looking neither sad nor upset as Kethmar apologized profusely for the theft and promised to find the culprits. They silently left, nodding to the prince.

The leader turned one last time to look at Stefan and Othmar, the latter then turning to his cousin who felt a chill run down his spine. He had made many enemies...

Stefan tried to hide the spurs but they kept coming back to him, reminding him of what he had done.

For years Stefan could not rest, fearful that the riders would come again to extract revenge and at the same time worried that if they didn't then Othmar would.

The riders would never come back as Kethmar's sudden death lead to Othmar's reign. Fearful, Stefan ran as far as he could from Vaasi land. For years he would run. Over hills and meadows, and through the mists he one day emerged at the foot of... tents...

At first he thought he had accidentally come across the riders again in some twisted quirk of fate but a tall, lanky man in a top hat welcomed him instead. This was the carnival and he could sense that the young man had reasons to be here, whether he knew them at this point in time or not.

He could spend the night if the mistress saw fit, after all, he looked tired. The price? Well the silver spurs on his boots would do nicely.

He could sleep with the horses, being Vaasi he should be comfortable enough around them no?

As he woke in the morning Stefan found himself feeling slightly odd. He couldn't quite rise to his feet and as he stretched out a leg he saw a horse's leg!

He soon realized that both his legs were now those of a horse and moreover so was all of his lower body!

The twisting took its hold and he became one with the beasts he so admired.

In Nova Vaasa things went as they did with Othmar's tenure lasting longer than any other before him.

Othmar never forgot the riders and made sure to ban them from appearing anywhere near his land. Yet reports of a horse with a coat as black as night and cold, steely eyes made him wonder - could they be back? Would they dare?

Reports had it that the horse was alone and without saddle, clearly left behind by its owners. Attempts to mount it were unsuccessful as the beast threw off all the man who tried before running away.

Othmar recognized the beast, but barely believed it could still be alive... Ah, but what if this was the brood of the original?

Such a fabulous beast would make Othmar the envy or lords and ladies across the realms! Anyone with an eye for the equine would recognize Othmar as a king among men!

For a year now Othmar has sent men to capture the horse and siblings, if there are any. He promises to shower with gold whomever brings him the horse alive. Every failed attempt raises his ire and the ante. Currently, the man who brings him the horse will be given a title of nobility on top of the gold.

What Othmar doesn't say is that the reports also claim that no one has yet to return after mounting the horse even though multiple sightings keep occurring.

The story goes that a man will see the horse peacefully grazing by the side of the road. The beast doesn't refuse a saddle or being mounted at all, but once firmly seated the man is taken for a wild ride. None can match the speed of the black steed and soon the man is lost forever more.

Othmar thought the men foolish enough to try and steal the horse which rightfully belongs to him now. However, people keep seeing it again and again. Always by the side of a road, always grazing.

In Nova Vaasa a man was seen in a local tavern claiming that he met a traveller who knows of the horse. The traveller claimed that he remembered the riders from long ago and that the leader had silver spurs with no spikes. The traveller is seen from time to time and always seems eager to ask about the latest news regarding the horse sightings.

(Deathmare, Savage Coast MC Appendix, Carnival and Nova Vaasa - that is the LAST campaign setting specific MC appendix done... now all campaigns are fair game!)


Tue Jul 07, 2015 5:20 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Prey and predator

"Hello there... hello... he....lll...oooo...

Are you... fine?

He...lll...oooo...

WAIT! Running... no, running is bad... don't run, wait...

Just talk... no, you can stay far... far is ok... I can hear yoooouuuu, it's ok...

Do you know what I found? It's nice and shiny... it's from the grey people...

You know, the grey people?

The grey people live here, under your feet... shuffling, scheming... They are YOU... I saw one... he looked like you. You're next, I know.

Me? I hide. I'm scared of them... but they don't know I'm here. Look over in that corner... oh sorry, to your left... a little more, ok under that rock... yes, there...

I told you, grey people...

He's dead.

Hellllllooooo... he...llo? Come back... please... they are everywhere... they are under, over, inside, outside...

You can't run, but I have a plan... be smarter....

They are smart, very smart, but too smart...

Oh yeessss... so smart... heh heh... heh.... heh heh heh...

Sorry... sooo sorry... It's a little dark here and I live alone. Lonely...

But... the grey people... scary... afraid... so afraid...

I know a secret... I know the monster... the monster... the bad monster... I know it... Not friends, just know it... I know, it's home, I know... yesssss...

It's hungry... it eats... eats people... instead... eat grey people, no?

You're strong, brave, strong and brave...

...And also stupid, it seems.

Did you believe I didn't know what you were?

While we were talking I weaved a little web, don't run, it'll only hurt more. Now, if you tell me where the rest of your people are we can make this relatively painless...

Hmmm... suicide...

Oh well, I guess I can eat the other one then and use this one to lure some fools.

Let us hope the bugs don't find this lair too soon."

----------

Timor has a new resident, a Darkweaver which found itself trapped in the Paridon sewers.

Quite intelligent, it realized that the place was infested with Dopplegangers... and something else...

The doppelgangers represent an interesting challenge and it finds them particularly delectable, far more than the humans at any rate. The "bugs" however have proven far more challenging thanks to their sheer numbers and power. Simple creatures that they are, the Darkweaver finds them to be too much trouble for what they're worth.

It seeks to spark a small conflict between the doppelgangers and marikith to cull the numbers of the latter while attracting more meals.

Also, it finds itself quite clever for orchestrating such a plan.

The Doppelgangers are divided. Some believe that there is something other than the marikith devouring their members, while others are convinced the bugs are just trying to spark hostilities.


Thu Jul 09, 2015 7:15 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
This old house

Somewhere out in the frozen reaches of Sanguinia, a mysterious castle stands alone. It's master is a vampire who, with the aid of his bald Caliban servant, has been attempting to bring to life a patchwork man. A long obsession from his mortal days which he carried over into undeath.

The creature lays on a table against a wall waiting for that spark of life to enter it. What would a powerful vampire want with such a creature is unknown even to the vampire himself as he simply follows through his nightly plans without fail.

The Caliban henchman tends to the needs of other residents of the castle as the vampire has at times requested assistance from an odd cast of characters which include a witch, a mad hunter, a werewolf bard, and his very own decrepit sage who seems to defy time and death itself.

Additions of a beast master and mad scientist make for a peculiar place.

They mostly devote themselves to their own little pursuits and seldom interact.

Yet it seem a rival has appeared in the form of a new vampire who is feuding with the master of the castle. This Count Frod is a devious character who enjoys nothing more than to ensnare mortals with tall tales, using them to undermine the plans of his rival.

Frod's steadfast ally is a gluttonous noble man whose insatiable lust for food, especially a local sweet nectar, has made him mad.

Isn't that scary kids?


Sat Jul 18, 2015 7:29 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
I say, it seems you put a lot of thought into Father Norbert and putting that gray philosopher to use. Even more so than usual. Kudos to you.


Sat Jul 18, 2015 10:00 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Thanks! But what about that latest one, huh?

Wasn't it scary? I mean, I don't know about you but pancakes... brrr... some have blueberries in them and... huh *vampire howl*

And a dancing werewolf? That's just, you know, WRONG!


Sat Jul 18, 2015 11:20 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Maybe I should continue tweaking the Old Father Norbert entry and submit it to the next QTR...


Sun Jul 19, 2015 8:36 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Zettaijin wrote:
Thanks! But what about that latest one, huh?

Wasn't it scary? I mean, I don't know about you but pancakes... brrr... some have blueberries in them and... huh *vampire howl*

And a dancing werewolf? That's just, you know, WRONG!


There is a reference there somewhere, isn't there? I'm not quite placing it.


Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:46 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
The Lesser Evil wrote:
Zettaijin wrote:
Thanks! But what about that latest one, huh?

Wasn't it scary? I mean, I don't know about you but pancakes... brrr... some have blueberries in them and... huh *vampire howl*

And a dancing werewolf? That's just, you know, WRONG!


There is a reference there somewhere, isn't there? I'm not quite placing it.


Google "evil house of pancakes" and prepare to be scared silly.

Then check out the Hilarious House of Frightenstein.


Sun Jul 19, 2015 6:13 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
The Howls of a Winter Moon

Somewhere out in the frozen reaches of Vorostokov, Zolnik has declared a hunt on a band of wolves and all those who would protect or be protected by them.

Ancient tales say that those men whose heart is pure enough may find one last chance at achieving some long held life goal before they meet their end. As death nears, they may hear a distinct howl, one unlike any other. At that time a silver wolf is said to appear and grant the dying man one final wish.

The wolf will only appear to those it deems worthy and only when the man has set off to spend his final days in the wintry wastes.

Zolnik never really believed the tales until he saw a wolf with a silver pelt standing besides a man he had hunted to the furthest reaches of his land. The wolf put its muzzle to the man's ear and in a flash of light they both disappeared.

Gregor feels he might be able to coerce the wolf into granting him a wish and is currently looking for someone to hunt in order to attract the wolf or whatever peers it may have.


Wed Aug 12, 2015 5:26 pm
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