Toltep walked slowly along the avenue, it would have been easier to swim along in the viaduct, but he had made it a point to not do the easy thing. All to often the easy path lead to ruin, and he had not survived so long by taking shortcuts, or the easy road. The market, what was above water, was abuzz with conversation. A large school of blood-crazed lurdi had been diverted into an ambush where the brave people had slaughtered the monsters. There was some worry, Toltep gathered, as a few had escaped.
''In a world dominated by savagery and barbarism, we alone represent civilization. Is it any wonder then that we are forced to keep the horrors of the outside world at bay?''
-an anonymous Usholal
Swimming with the Great Western Tide that sweeps towards Tarrod from the far west of the Ocean, the mighty and enigmatic Uuluun sing songs that speak of the unfathomable gods of the deep, and wrestle each other in seabed-shaking contests of strength and martial skill.
The Harakan have been created with only one purpose in mind. They hunt the despised slaves of the Empire
Inhabiting the waters of Tarrod, the Organi is a dangerous creature.
This sea monster seeks to devour more than just mere flesh..
A reclusive race, the Ragori live deep in the heart of the Purvis Swamp.
Famed for the dazzling beauty of their shimmering scales, the Yogran are fish that every nobleman or powerful merchant wants to stock his pond with.
A plague in improverished locations, the Rot Beetle is the bane of those who are not careful about where or what they eat.
Rumored to be lurking in the dark jungles surrounding the exotic city of Zibaba, these elusive beasts have yet to be seen by anyone within living memory.
‘‘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..
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…
To experience liberation in the arms of Goran, one must first await the coming of the Uroghi..
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..
Gahrafahas is Bastard Demonspeak and is derived from ghrazh’fualzh’s, true DemonSpeak for ‘‘those who come from the Skies’’ or ‘‘the Sky Ones.’’
Swift and deadly as any Dunleoustous, the Anura remain a proud and free people, though outsiders have time and time again, imposed great cruelties on this race.
A dark shadow falls over the still waters of the swamp, and for a brief instant every sound made by a living creature ceases.
Unbeknown to them, the party of Brave People wading in the shallows in hot pursuit of a small band of defeated human soldiers, have themselves unwittingly become the prey.
The players see a small shrine to the local nature deity just of the trail. Before they even approach it, they can smell the foul stench of rotting meat. If they inspect the shrine, they can see it has been desecrated by rotting organs in the last few days. There is no mistaking it for an obscure ritual, the organs are thrown everywhere, not left in specific places as in sacrifice.
If the players try to clean the shrine, they will soon find it has been boobytrapped to fling sharp splinters covered in the rotting gore in every direction. While only doing a few points of damage, they injured players will likely take sick soon unless they get medical attention.