Known fully as 'Nind Vel'uss Tahcaluss whol nind ehmtu siltrin' or 'They Who Hunger for Their Own Flesh'
Dwarven Undead with a hunger that won't be satiated by simply your blood, brains, or flesh.
He raised his sword to fight the foul undead thing in front of him, which was when it threw something only just glimpsed in the beam of his torch at him. When he blocked it with his sword, the resulting explosion both shattered his sword and took off his hand. As he turned to flee, screaming in pain, the Dumuzid he was facing stabbed him again and again until he fell dead to the sandy floor of the tomb.
The Nurglur stand taller than a man, though they are stooped and hunched so their faces lie at a height similar to ours. Their bodies are slim with a muscled, wiry strenght and their feet are turned with three bird like talons.
*Sphhisshh* *Sphhissh* *Sphhissh*
Van Torxus first line of defense against intruders into his realm.
A great treasure has been stolen from the Palace and taken to the nearby Temple to the Bitch-Goddess Atrath Klee. The King demands that the party go and retrieve it - the only snag is that the Temple is guarded by potent magic that will kill any male who steps inside. It's just as well that the King has a stash of Girdles of Gender Alteration for just this circumstance.