Ghostchasers are small nocturnal birds that have the ability to see what normal humans and most other animals cannot.
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.
Mean ingredients bring mean effects...
Food, fun, and a mummy!
T'was a great roar, milord, and the ground was rent and the horses took their bits in their teeth and there was much confusion. No magic could reach so far, and none of our magehounds scented wizards. We do not know the deviltry of the enemy, and for this we lost the battle.
This sea monster seeks to devour more than just mere flesh..
Magik is slippery and dangerous to work with, and failure can have disastrous results. Yet the Sorcerer's continue to ply their art without the benfit of the engines and machines now widely recognized as essential to the making of magik.
One of man's most successful domestications has been that of the dog. Even in our world, the variation that has been bred is truly astonishing. It only seems natural that a world filled with magic and the supernatural could yield even greater variety. This is a collection of some of these possibilities.
"For days, we've heard nothing but cricketsong, from the coming of dust to an hour past dawn. Nothing he happened, but I'm sure something will."
last journal entry, Traggion the Explorer
Treasured texts of the infamous Doctor Alcomb.
Something flashes beneath the waves, a hint of green scales surfaces. A rainbow colored crest breaks the waters surface followed by a huge beast.
"What you wanna go messin' around up in the mountains for? Ain't nothin' up there but snow, and wolves, and more snow.
Yer lookin' for the old tomb? Take my advice, boys. Let that tomb alone. There ain't nothin up there you ought be messin' with. No money, no treasure, no fame, just ice. And death."
Driven by the need to keep his descendants fed, Daniel Andersson is one of the more peculiar undead - and gods - one might ever come across.
Picture the wildest rodeo you’ve ever seen. Now picture it half a mile above the earth.
A simple and fun fantasy octopus ready to be used as an ally, pet, or interesting meal
The babies of a small village has been disappearing lately, rumour has it that a demon living in the forest has taken them. The monster has the appearance of a shriveled old woman. A hag, disheveled, with maniacal appearance, wild-looking hair, and an oversized gaping mouth. Long pendelous breasts. The villagers say she eats the newborns and has sharp claws that are created for mangling. No one dears to challenge her, enter the PCs.