Mix and match to your player's horror,the apex predator in the Stolen World
A 100 word Sci-fi explanation as to why Dwarves can never shave and why the beard truly is a matter of life and death.
Some field notes on Trolls, courtesy of T.H.I.S.
Once the shipment arrives at the kingdom it seems that all the boxes are empty and for some reason most of the coins were replaced with small rocks and acorns.
"That's old lady Serisia's house... We don't go in there anymore." the children looked forlornly through the iron fence to their lost ball, deep within the overgrown gardens of the massive front yard.
From deep in the foliage, a menacing 'Yowl' sounded, followed by an eerie droning.
This sub is a little bit silly.
Keep your helmet on, there are sparrow oaks in this forest.
The hardest part about dealing with a ratwood tree is by the time you find it, there are dozens more you haven't found yet.
-"He's dead, Jim. Drowned, from the looks of it."
-"Cramps? Swimming too soon after a meal?"
-"No, but something got a meal alright."
A collection of Chinese mythical lifeforms representing Bad Omens or associated with the onset of Disasters
A collection of Chinese mythical lifeforms representing Good Omens or have divine associations (more entries will be added)
A collection of Chinese Mythical Lifeforms that can pose varying degrees of danger to adventurers and the general populace
Perhaps they were once natural beasts, but natural beasts cannot survive the wastes of Corpsefall. No, this beast is far from natural, and for that, I believe nature is grateful.
Spindly, steel spiders, spinning silk so sharp. (100-word sub)
Pets mind you. Not exotic monster companions. No saddled dire-boars to be found here. No purple worm caravans.
Beard grooming is a life-long process divided between two schools of thought: harsh mineral treatments or more the natural approach. The popular naturalist approach requires beard-spiders that live off lice, fleas and other small insects.
Prophesies exist for a reason, legends of dragons destroying the lands and violent struggles for survival often have a grain of truth to them. The Plague Dragons grain of truth is large, angry, and due to return sooner than anyone is ready.
"Ye've ne'er heard of the Shnickels? Ye must 'ave not grown up in yonder country. The Shnickels are pests. Varmints. They move in, and you're done, son."
-Old Gerald, man in the pub.
According to the Journals of Lord Goidol, the people of the Southern Cities wear heavy coats all the year round, despite the stifling tropical heat. They claim that to do otherwise angers the gods, and it is true that visitors who refuse to don the local garb are often struck down with a paralytic fever.