The magical tool of a forgotten sect, the spinneret stylus' power may bring as many troubles than it solves.
Moon Water Jewel was a woman of breathtaking beauty, so no ordinary gift would do.
"How far? Ye’ll know ye’ve found Malver’s Way when ye sees the Arch."
The Earth shifts, revealing a horror beyond time and reason…
In the heart of the storm dwell the aerial creatures known as tempest blades.
Despite his lackluster personal hygiene, Captain Geezo has a certain magnetism…
Before the honored dead are placed in their sarcophagi of alabaster, they come to the Villa of the Embalmers.
According to the legend, Dread Velsparge, Daemon Prince of the Myriad Hands, plunged into the Tarakhen Sea in a blaze of scarlet flame, throwing the whole world into ruin.
Sometimes, the places remember. Where Destiny’s threads intertwine, echoes of the past live again.
In a land known only as legend, in a tower that could only be myth, beings of immortal evil wait for freedom. The Ones who Hunger for Pain are coming to give it to them.
Why did you buy all those Iron Spikes?
The alchemists of the Hegemon did well, developing an almost undetectable Love Potion.
"The Tower of Ill Omen!" the old gypsy gasped as she glimpsed the shattered structure at the mountain’s peak.
Even the sinister Aelfen lords of the Unseleigh Court knew to fear the eldritch vengeance of the Horned Lord.
The Castellan of the Court of Dark Memory loyally serves the Twystened Sidhe, wielding unholy power in his ruthless determination to end an evil curse.
Near the center of the forest are the hidden halls that house the Court of Dark Memory, one of the last bastions of the Unseleigh Courts.
The peerless heroes of the Eagle Legion died with their sandals on…
The magical glow of the rare Allifendae Tree enthralls some and terrifies others…
Legacy of the sorcerous Shetam Kham, these complex rites allow even the most evil of accursed items to be reclaimed.
The mightiest champion of the Great Empire had a vision, a vision that his heirs still follow…
The city of Nausopol is built on stilts. Lots of very sturdy stilts and butresses, of course, because it rises about five hundred feet from the ocean. Even the most terrific of storms is only heard in the city as a distant cacophony of blasts as waves strike the solid stonework fathoms below. It has never been attacked because of its isolation and impregnability.
It's not a place for the faint-hearted: vertigo and sea-sickness are not desirable traits. But when you are standing in the middle of the city there is no way you could tell that you were standing above an ocean, separated only by a gulf of air and a few stones.
A thousand steps lead down from Nausopol to the floating docks. These docks are pitch-coated wooden and can be raised by winches during squalls. Trade with other cities and countries is good: Nausopol is built over a sunken atoll whose minerals are still mined by divers, and it was from this that it originally derived its wealth.
But the principal method of getting to and from the city is by riding the giant sea-eagles which have been captured and bred for that very reason.