Youth passes quickly for this race of elves, though middle age lingers for millennia. They have no love for the forests or other natural places, preferring their carefully crafted and tended walled cities.
The Neko, or Cat-Girl; as they are also known as.
The name was chosen, in order to disassociate from the cosplay Cat Girl of Batman.
With no given form, she can take on the persona of choice at will.
"We're nothing new. We've always been here. YOU're the newcomers. You're the animal that forgot that it was a man. Stop crying, you animal, you sleepwalker! If you opened your eyes for only an instant you would see that. You're a race of amnesiacs, of dreaming children. I said STOP CRYING! You disgust me. That's why I'm not going to explain anything else. That's why you will die--screaming--without ever having truly woken up. I will paint every inch of this floor with your blood."
-An Awakened, formerly Ms. Albright, speaking to Albert Frond, immediately before his murder
The manifestation of the Queen of Avarice, the Eye of Avarice is a worthy herald of that fell being.
"I have no love for these aliens."
-Jax the Chronicler
Beau yet alien, the soldier-concubines of Aerazad, the Returned King, are a glowing reminder that a new order reigns in Eversea.
The Ska'ag warrior lay in his hide, watching the intruders.
“The Makers,” he thought. It had been many generations since the last one had died, but there was no doubt. They were back. “I have to warn the People.”
Little imp-like creatures...that eat paper?!
Some people think that the VÃƒÂ©nat are harmless, helpless, charming creatures. Despite their small size and gauzy wings, they are anything but. You underestimate them at your peril.
The various intelligent species that inhabit Locastus, City of Mirrors.
"The walls moved!" Krunis exclaimed. This he was sure of it this time.
"Of course they did. They are trying to accommodate the additional room needed for tonight." Xarn returned matter-of-factly.
Living stones are tuned to one master to do his bidding.
The Ky’iish are greatly advanced in the arts of magic and created many strange and powerful materials and items. Some of their weapons were the most formidible artifacts found on Neyathis, dwarfing both physically and magically virtually all the works of man.
The Caretakers of the Vast City - Stoneholt, a race of great skill, persistence, and antiquity…
Featured creatures of the Swollen Shadow Codex.
“We beg the protection of the gods. Of Deneth, divine father; of Larisa, queen of the heavens; of Mynis, guardian of the gates; of Tychis, master of secrets; of Desha, she who protects. Grant us safety from the sons of the devourer of worlds. Grant us protection from the Jandoshan.”
- Ethalani prayer
Some are called dhampir, others exalt as champions of undeath, and yet neither of these are correct…
Below the surface of the Earth, dwelling in darkness and forgotten catacombs, the goat-headed Ghouls, dark spirits of murder, feast on the dead. Ghouls dwell in old, forgotten places, luring others down into the grasping claws of their evil tribes.
The Kythrythe are a different kind of people. Given their worship of the Insect God Kythrellemen, they are more than just Humans. These people, except for their eyes, will be normal people at first glance. Some might be quite big or small or graceful, but they look like people. At second glance you will notice their small antena peeking out from their hair. Every now and again, you will see one that has been "blessed" by the God and granted "Marks of the God", insect like physical abilities.
The call to Him is unnerving. The power He gives is unmatched. He is the reason why I turned my back on my God and now worship Him. I will live eternal for the trade of my Soul to a God. I can live with that.
-Rakeos -Follower of Sethalis, fallen Priest of Aduivo
There are those as rich as kings but dress as peasants and worry not about funding. To visit their true homes one would see wealth of untold value scattered as dirt is in a hut. They know the monetary value of their possessions but they have long lost any true value to their owners. Experience is their currency and their curse. They dispense secrets of the ages as if discussing the weather. Few things have they not experienced so that very little gives them joy. They are the lost ones looking for new life while humoring the mortals around them.