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.
Though each drone possesses little intelligence of its own, together, they are the Kth’k'k’kt, who span the stars.
The crystal dragons of Sogth VII are strange and sinuous beasts, be they stalking across the land on their four legs, and swimming through the ammonia seas.
These magical boots empower the wearer with several abilities at once. Wondrous leaping, water-walking, and even flying! Yet the boots possess an insidious curse upon them as well. A deep and almost unfathomable (by others) feeling of listlessness, boredom, and even apathy affects the boots' wearer at all times whenever they are donned. Magic will not dispel the effects.
And so while the wearer of the boots can perform great feats of action during combat or at other opportune times and key moments, they'll never really want to do so, complaining "Meh, what's the point of it all anyway?" or "I would fly up and save us all guys, but sigh, maybe uhm, soonish, mkay? Bit bored by this whole burning tower at the moment."
Naturally the boots wearer's fellow PCs will grow quickly frustrated with this arrangement. There have been numerous occasions when one angry PC literally tears off the boots from his companion's feet in anger, and dons them in turn, only to immediately suffer from the same effects.
The solution lies in constantly "motivating" the boots' wearer with successful rolls, involving threats, flattery, fiery speeches, or even bribery.