Honored and cherished by the people of the Ragosi mountains, the Osaki have allowed them to retain their freedom in the face of those who would enslave them.
Unique among the sea monsters that infest the oceans of Acqua, this abomination is cursed with a hunger for power that can never be satisfied.
‘‘I tell you, if you seek to cross the dunes of the great desert alone, you will never return. Vile fiends dwell there, evil monsters that delight in feasting upon the flesh of men. I fear that if you persist in your foolish quest, you like the others before you, will end your days as a feast for these foul denizens of the desert’‘.
Feared throughout the southern seas, the Jurokang are a deadly menace to any that intrude into their domain.
The deadly legacy of a vindictive demon, Shugrat’s lust is to be feared by those who dread to sin..
Poor little Kankos..
Spat upon by his tyrannical superiors, this pathetic little office menial slaved away like a mule for the miserable pittance thrown to him..
Until he met the one that lurked in the shadows..
Prowling the wild seas of Acqua like the ravenous raiders that they are, these militant priests of Holy Jove are sworn to their sacred mission of destroying the unbelievers and infidels wherever they may be found on the open ocean.
The frogs are thick and plentiful here. Everywhere you go, you’re almost always about to squash one of the slimy things underfoot if you’re not careful about what you tread on. And at night, the tiresome din of multitude of the amphibians croaking, fills the air and render sleep all but impossible. Worst of all, the disgusting things are prone to invading one’s hut, huddling in dark corners.
In this dank land, the Bombo hold sway. And the frogs thrive, as do their more mysterious cousins…
Behold yonder hut floating on the island? An abandoned fisherman’s dwelling, you say? Nay, tis the Temple Of Inaha.
Like the heated embrace of a lover, this singular thing caresses and binds itself around the chest of the wearer, linkings its fate with his to the end of his days…
To experience liberation in the arms of Goran, one must first await the coming of the Uroghi..
The small planet of XX has constantly puzzled astronomers who are unable to make any sense of its constantly shifting location on the cosmic charts.
Other less lofty minds pay this oddity no heed, choosing instead to focus on the search for more more promising worlds to colonise and tame.
But unknown to the race of men, a ferocious rival lurks in the black depths of space, constantly on the hunt….
‘‘We are the Lords Of The Straits, Rulers Of the Sea, and the very ocean acknowledges us as Her children! Men of Pan-Kor, nothing sails on the waters without acknowledging our might !’’
Standing atop the parched hill and triumphantly displaying their gory trophies , the berserker s begin to shriek aloud their terrible, keening war-cries, confident that the coming battle will belong to them as the enemy flees before their frenzied onslaught, all its discipline and training forgotten in the face of a foe that harbors no fear at all for any enemy born of humanity.
Just as the red mist clouding their eyes begins to fill their minds with fantasies of mass slaughter, a mass of shadowy figures suddenly materialises out of the darkness, charging towards the berserkers with long, loping strides that lend them speed that is at once awesome and terrifying to witness, even to the crazed minds of these onlookers.
As a heavy,furry shape hurtles into the the commander, he falls to the ground, his throat ripped out by the savage fangs of his assailant. As his life ebbs away from him in the rapidly expanding jet of blood gushing from his ripped arteries, savage growls become the lullaby lulling him into the never-ending slumber of death.
Never look over your shoulder when you hear that hiss..
‘‘Is not the emir himself a slave of the Allmighty? Everyone should be a slave. Unchecked freedom is a terrible curse and burden that will destroy us if we are not subject to the will of our natural superiors that have it in themselves to elevate all that is noble and proud in their slaves, while stifling that which is head-strong and foolish. Unfortunate is the free man who has no master to rule over him’‘.
Everyone who’s young, beautiful and wealthy in the kingdom, owns a few pieces of master-work by this almost legendary craftsman. If you’re a young woman that wants to dazzle everyone at the banquet, you’d better not be seen without your Rustof jewelry.
Endowed with a generous love for the untainted bounty of the natural environment, this enigmatic individual has all but forgotten what it means to be human..
Gahrafahas is Bastard Demonspeak and is derived from ghrazh’fualzh’s, true DemonSpeak for ‘‘those who come from the Skies’’ or ‘‘the Sky Ones.’’
Founded on the promise of prophecy, this fiefdom owes it success to its previously worthless amethyst deposits. And its very survival as well.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman