A cold and cadavorous collection of nefarious necromancers.
The Pretty Princess Scroll
Ye Olde English
Oblat - A soldier who, grown impotent or maimed in service, hath maintenance or the benefit of a monk’s place assigned him in an abbey
30 slingers of spells, vendors of enchantment, and bizarrement.
The champion of the Goddess of War!
Do as thou Will…
Half robot, half vampire
With the evil in the hearts of men…
The Shadow grows
Neither here nor there, the City of Shadows borders on the twilight of existance…
Blood, biles black and yellow and phlegm, these are the four vital humours that govern our bodies. Understand them, and health is a simple matter.
St. Gray of Galen, Lectures
My Queen should be pleased that Aurixia cannot grant me an heir, for if my dragon could give me a child I would have no use for the woman or her dubious charms…
Attributed to King Thyr, from the Book of the Black Rose
I will make a prison that is as inescapable as the crime that infests our cities and towns
Yeah yeah, I know the Duke. Of course I do. P. Donkey Donque travels in some high circles, jester.
Never a more petty and larcenous trio will there be found.
No, no. This hasnt been done correctly. Move aside imbecile…
My Sword is yours, milord…
The undisputed head of the Trinity, and the story of Falhath’s oldest folk hero.
Clad in a rainment of silver scale and chain armor, Ixia is the second member of the Trinity
Creator of the Black Book, the primogen tome of necromancy, few names are as feared or reviled as that of Mastere.
The sun has set upon the Kingdoms of Men, may night have mercy on us…
Opening Quote of the Book of the Black Rose
An insidious creature, most likely somehow "related" to trappers and lurkers, the Dead Leaves (for no other name exists as of yet for this foul thing), hibernates for three of the four year's seasons, deep underground. Its active time is Autumn, when trees shed their leaves, depositing colorful carpets across the ground. The terror then emerges and blends in with the surrounding leaves, perfectly camouflaged, waiting patiently for unsuspecting victims. In appearance it resembles nothing more than a ten foot square, six inch thick, layer of bright yellow, orange, and red leaves. The only hint that someone is walking on top of it, comes in the form of an unusual amplified sound of leaves crunching underfoot. Too late usually, the victims notice this additional "crunch". The Dead Leaves will then swirl and "rise" up to smother and suffocate the victim, like a colorful, malevolent, boa constrictor.
Fire, as can be imagined, is particularly effective against this creature, but one has to *know* it's there before putting it to the torch. And there's the rub. The creature is impossible to "identify" in a large patch of fallen leaves by eyesight alone.