Pelta'na'astal'i'ke'kisher - The Spear that Sundered the Stars
The spear of the Goddess Renga, who gave the gift of the Hunt to the Kel'Regar.
Even as humans can be, the Kel'Regar, too, can be touched by madness, and it can drive them to push to ends incomprehensible by the sane. The work of one such, Kararemi'ar'Salm'Torat, the Menangerie of Mad Creation, is a twisted, living structure, tormented by years of loneliness and incomprehensible need.
A wanderer of sorts, Brelan is one of the few Kel’Regar men who have chosen to mix freely with the greater galactic society, having found his calling at last behing the bar.
A small, hidden sect among the stars, distributed throughout hundreds of cells, The Word of Creation has dedicated itself to cleansing humanity of the taint of synthetic and altered life, and of holding a strong and pure humanity above all the Galaxy, through whatever means necessary.
More subtle than artillery, Mul'Tals, the siege-vine of the Kel'Regar, is more than capable of reducing the strongest of defenses to rubble, growing, twisting, and devouring its way through them.
The Kir’bret’rasach is the Kel’Regar answer to the question of the main battle tank. More than one foe has been caught unaware by its massive strength and tearing claws.
Designed in the early days of mech combat, the SPC-19 Cannon is a cheap, but surprisingly effective counter measure against the agile battle suits.
Undead abominations born of the Light, the glow of the Accursed’s warped flesh strikes terror into those who behold it.
The result of a disastrous summoning accident involving a fire elemental, a pig farm, and a farmer’s daughter, bacon elementals can only be described as delicious.
"Have mercy? Dear, foolish, man, the Mistress’s mercy is the only gift I have to give."
The mark of Kronath’s ultimate favor, the Cloak of Dusk is held by her Hunter, her chosen avatar to hunt the living dead, and return them to her embrace.
Adapted to the coldest of inhabitable worlds, the stocky Snowborn are the Starkin’s frozen cousins, set to defend them from threats from outside, using their terrible world itself as a weapon.
Located on a world near the heart of Kel’Regar space, Nath’ar’Selass’Resan is a world renowned amongst that kind for it’s beautiful art, high technology, and the absolute lack of things that can kill a woman in dignified fashion.
The massive hammer of Nial Ironspirit, there is no finer tool for the manipulation of steel.
As the world grows and changes, so to do the gods. One such creature is Verdichtung, Reaver of Steam.
The only son of Dr. Nicholas Farthing, Ironwing has dedicated himself to the destruction of his father’s Fabulous Engine.
Most steam engines require vast quantities of coal and water. Dr. Farthing’s Fabulous Engine requires only the water that it will turn into steam, or so the good doctor says…
A rare, and often cantankerous weapon, the Gutbroiler is capable of cooking a man’s insides while they’re still inside them.
Its intricate knitting defining all description, the hyperdoily is the world’s best resting place for cookies.
A subtle, and effective improvement to the standard gravitic shielding common throughout the Starkin Federation, this device rapidly degrades and destroys energy weapons brought to bear against it.
Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.
Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.
It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.