The Ambassador’s bodyguard quaked at the sight of the uniformed skeletons guarding the main gates of the royal palace. "Don’t be afraid," the Ambassador said. "They are King’s Bones, the monarch’s personal bodyguards, and are no threat to us unless we were to do something stupid like trying to attack His Majesty."
The roar of the dragon echoed through the cave, causing the knights to stumble back in fear. “Don’t worry,” said the mage who was with them. “It’s a water dragon, and from the state of the river outside, it is in poor health. It’s just trying to scare us.”
The tomb robber smashed his way into the royal barrow, and shone his torch around. Painted upon the walls was a fresco of a king pulling a sword from a stone, and in front of the sarcophagus was a large lump of lead with a sword hilt within it. He pulled at the hilt and grinned as a sword with it’s blade glowing a soft green emerged from the lead, wondering how much money he could sell it for.
It was meant to be a great help in a city’s battle with booze, but all too often it has merely become another tool in the criminal armoury…
The Sorcery Springs Geyser Basin is a place of bubbling magical water, as every individual spring or pool has it’s own magical power. It is a place of great wonder and for the careless, great danger too.
It is said in the hidden myths of the banned and hunted Cult of Ma-O, that the Seamus Straits are where Ma-O fell when the god Jove hurled him from heaven. His physical body was smashed into pieces of amethyst and his spirit trapped within the warm waters. Here under the waves, once when built on dry land the pride and joy of the De Madden Company, Castle Seamus is now occupied by a unique underwater tribe.
As you come near the Songpit, the sounds of sweet angelic bardic singing as if from heaven mix with the sounds of screams of agony. Your guard grins and turns to you. “You’ll either entertain us with your voice or with your pain, but either way we are going to have some fun with you.”
Not all vampires suck blood, there are those who suck feelings as well and you often have no idea of it until the vampire is feeding upon you.
30 Guards, who in peacetime patrol the Palace and in wartime are the Royal Bodyguards and the King’s last defence.
The grave robber grinned as he left the royal barrow, his pockets full of stolen gold, and dressed in a helmet and chainmail shirt stolen from the now naked, decomposing body of the king. The explosion that followed ten seconds after he stepped into the sunlight wiped the smile from his face and blew his body into pieces. Had he studied metallurgy, he would have known that the armour was made of pure Orthacarium and he would have left it alone, and escaped the barrow with his life.
The Pocket Ironbones, whilst not quite the war machines that they were intended to be, have been useful in the service of Banhosea all the same.
The soldiers charged screaming into battle, their faces twisted into masks of hatred as they struck out with blows stronger then humans would normally be capable of. Each wore on his shield arm a Star of Rage, a starfish-like creature, ruddy red with the blood that it was draining from his body.
Pataket is a criminal unlike any others for he has been working at his trade for centuries, and it is rumoured that he can break into anywhere.
When all attempts at healing have failed, then the Gate of Life may be one’s only hope to live again…
Negev demons can take the shape of humans or elves and feed on emotions rather then on meat or vegtables.
The Snarf is one of the funnier and seemingly harmless and defenseless beasts, but underestimate it at your peril.
The VirginsBane Beetle has ruined the life of many an innocent girl. Many a forced wedlock or an honour killing has been caused by it’s sting.
The many worlds of the Universe have their multiple festivals-some may be to celebrate the turning of the year, the coming of the rains or the return of the sun.
It started as the answer to a monarch’s fears, but it ended up as a thing of terror.
Some of the inhabitants of Pier Point Prison-the bad, mad and the downright sad.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.