An evil that nurtures evil, a dark mother that is cradle to shadow.
The beast within became the beast without; ferocity and might blossoming in corpore upon the flesh.
A harvest queen, a druid of war, a monarch of leaves.
A fey kingdom fallen, with winter triumphant. A dream frozen, to be thawed by might and heroic deed.
Alive with emotion -
Constantly in motion -
With inner voice, ‘hind innocent face -
a cunning mind -
Metal fairies in the depths of space?
It is the tortured and imperfect souls who most often cannot find a clear path to the afterlife. Weighted down by sins unforgiven, sins for whose forgiveness they never ask, sins they never regretted.
To be added to Remaking Undead when finished
Magic is a blessing and curse, life and death, birth and undoing, a goal and a way.
No walls as far as the eye can see, no gate nor fence, only the mists and wind roam free over the open lands of Kevvar.
In seeking to escape serving the Lord of Ravens many a hope flickered and died, for those who oppose him end up serving him after all.
The greatest of chieftains, uniter of the hordes, harbringer of chaos, many names he held, yet what is the truth behind one of the greatet Orc leaders of all time?
Is it liberation or conquest? Humane thought or wanton deicide?
A malicious ploy to make the divine starve?
An exquisite steed, midnight black, treading like a dancer, its step so light that it does not scar the ground, its stride so fluent that you could sit in the saddle all day… if you needed one. Its golden eyes shine with intelligence and spirit, and it seems to know your every wish. Ah, who would not want such a fine beast to carry him?
Sing to me and I shall write, on lilies, poetry of the night.
A blade of darkest night turned to a different use, to teach and educate the knight?
Known in folk-lore as the Blighted Storm-Serpents, the reclusive Kumbra are far more than any might guess.
It’s not a weapon that kills people, it are the poeple who do so…
If only the one wording such comment knew better!
The mind of a wizard is more open to the more esoteric elements of his surroundings Ã¢â?¬â?? this is why he is able to perceive the weave of the Great Tapestry that is the multiverse, and pull at the strings. This increased sensitivity can manifest in several ways.
Honor beyond death, duty beyond the grave. An eternity of damnation for an eternity of servitude.
Within the chest of a wizardly tool, there beats a Shard heart, deeming the master a fool.
They are the menace of the borderlands, travelling with their herds paths they used for millenia, and razing any signs of civilization in the process. When the winter is especially harsh or the summer unusually dry, they descend upon the heartlands of kingdoms like a plague, more a natural disaster than an enemy.
While traveling trough farm land the PCs come upon a merchant sitting on a wrecked wagon without a mule attached to it, hid face burrowed in his hands. He explains that he was robbed by petty goblins, unable to defend himself he had retreated. He asks the PCs to help him retrieve the mule before the goblins roast it, as a reward they may keep his goods. How hard can it be?