The Tlu ‘che a Naust lu’ Phlithus a Jal is not an easy path to walk, and none take it lightly, or willingly.rnrn~ Faerlani lu’Noamuth Che’el
Light infantry units, with assorted skill sets
The Sogans were a mystically aware technological society. Queen Stavarang is the last surviving Sogan in the galaxy
Kids today, you can't tell them what to do, right from wrong. When I was a kid we got tattoos and piercings, nowadays they turn themselves into freaking mutants. On purpose!
Any citizen over the age of 30
'You can't just run around killing goblins and looting temples, this isn't the old days my boy. To make it today you've got to be part of the guild, and you need a team, and a look, and most importantly you need a manager. Like me.'
A spirit of judgement and punishment
You should probably get ready for some trouble...
The Pig King, the great tyrant, the King who's hunger cannot be sated.
I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart... Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs.
"Compared to the scum I deal with as a cop, fighting you was a piece of cake!"
A member of the Cynopterid race
I was just another nobody, not part of the clique, not one of the Heathers, just a nameless, faceless nobody. Then, I died.
And became somebody.
Brief bio of a space intel officer
30 in progress
Marla (Fight Club) - as the salesperson whose species reproduces by cloning or similar technology.
PC generated by random generator
An unfortunate man and his canine companion
A favored son of the Prussian nobility, and a Knight Errant of the Restored Order of the Temple
The eldest of six sisters and the heir apparent of the Argyle-Blakes, and an investigator for the Royal Theosophical Society
Immortality can be had, but for a cost. Some are willing to pay this price, some are willing to make others pay the price. So long as there is gold in my hand I care not.
Madness lingers there, in the broken corners of his mind.
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.