Come forth, the world weary, be assured that the blessed steel will guide you into the Green Vales! The wondrous Sting will herald your entry into the blessed realm.
A powerful empire, macabre and violent. Now gone, a victim of their own folly.
The Hanset are a sleeping giant of a race. Once the owners of an empire of Alexandrian proportions, they new reside in their hidden sub-tropical home, living the simple lives of tribesmen. Though bereft of metal tools, they have adapted to their forest home and it to them. Though their empire is long gone, they still hold onto the seed of its greatness.
A powerful, maritime people, brought down by the foulest Necromancy.
A people of systematic inhumanity - beyond bloodthirsty.
The characters are wandering through the bustling crowds of Lasopolis. A street conjuror is performing a simple summoning spell, something for the kiddies. A bit of odious purple powder in the fire, an incantation and out pops a saak-lizard or a muhmentarsh, writhing from the flaming brazier. But the conjuror has only a poor grasp of the arcane magical tongue. A few stuttered syllables could lead to Other Things coming through the brazier and giving the crowd more entertainment than they had paid for...