In some cultures,a man’s repect depends on his virility and sexual prowess in bed,as does his hope of getting a heir. But what if for some reason,he find himself unable to perform his duty in the bed chamber? Well,he should despair not,for the Soup of Fertility may save him yet!
Savage,blood thirsty,the amphibious shark men or Zaben cannot be controlled,so the conventional wisdom goes.
But is this really the case?
Forced to flee by foes that cannot be defeated,this man will return one day to take back what is his.
Harbouring the accumalated memories of generations of the Uluun,it offers either great wisdom or raving insanity.
A powerful stimulant,it is invaluble to the warrior struggling to stave off fatigue on the battle field.
Throughly despising the intrigue and scandals of the royal court,Prince Michael has never mourned the loss of his crown and inheritance to a treacherous advisor of his father’s. No,inflicting vengeance on the usurper and reclaiming his throne is too petty for him. He has a more important quest to fulfill..
At first glance,this modest looking cloak made of black leather,seems to be the perfect blessing for anyone literally wanting to become someone else.
The price it exacts fom the wearer however,is a fate worse than death..
A devoted and zealous priest of the Ice, Irad nevertheless is troubled by the brutal and vicious ways of those who worship it. Rather than crush and destroy the civilized folk of the South in its name, he would rather they be converted to the faith of his people and worship the Ice as their master. This he feels, can only be acomplished if they are encouraged to revere it rather than loathe it. It is indeed ironic that such a gentle and wise man serves the twisted Ice Lord..
The ice lands…. A place where the forces of ice and frost hold power eternal over the lands,a place where the life giving rays of the sun are smothered and mocked by an eldritch ice mist.. For these desolate,frozen plains are home to the dread Ice Worshippers,a race of savage and feared nomads who are as merciless and relentless as the sinister ice that dominates their lands,the same ice they revere and hold in awe. Held in terror and loathing by the folk of the fair south,they eagerly await the day the ice sends them forth to unleash upon the civilized lands, a demon winter that yearns to consume all life..
As High chief and seer of the Bakali, the lizardman Baragh is aware that the vey survival of his doomed race hangs in his claws. Knowing that the odds stacked against him are great, he nevertheless pursuses with great doggedness his goal of finding a hero willing to aid him in his struggle to to restore the land of his ancestors back to its rightful masters. Though a part of him knows that the plight of a primitive race of non humans is unlikely to elicit much sympathy, he clings on to the hope that there will be someone brave and noble enough to share his cause.
Wary and suspicous of human and Orc alike, the halfbreed Gorlock trusts no one, not even his fellow half orcs whom he despises.Though he like his brethen is fated to be shunned by both humans and Orcs, he is troubled by their brutal code which demands that that which is not given freely must be taken by brute force.It is this sense of deceancy which marks him as a truly unique being among his kind…
You've probebly heard of the real Thomas Hopkins, Witchfinder-General, who hunted down and hanged suspected "witches". What if there was a world/realm where magic was normal, and it was the non-witches and non-wizards who were hunted down and hanged as inferior beings?