Humanity is as varied as the stars themselves.
There are different sorts of demons in the world. Some are indistiguishable from normal people. Some are a little different, but pass initial scrutiny. And some are much more monstrous.
Every Court needs its servants…
"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.
"That book?" sighed the librarian. "That one is hard to find. The priests say it is heretical. But," he continued more quietly "word is they have a few copies, and study them very carefully. That even they consider it true."
A reptilian race of space-travelers whose addiction to a drug they need for survival leads them to a less than stellar reputation.
The Others are a magical, elder race, that occasionally interact with Humanity.
Captain, I see two dozen general displacement ships just coming into sensor range outside the system. There is no warp signature sir.
How Odd. Helmsman lay in an intercept course and let us investigate.
Beware these shrub-sized gaurdians of the forest.
The D’athri took to space in such a way to make Terrans look "gun shy". They can be found in small numbers in and around every space port in Known Space.
Representing a primal force of nature which wants to strangle and slay all humanity, to bury their works beneath the roots of trees and their bodies as fertilizer.
Their wyrm tainted blood and slaver ways mark them as not Human. These are the Evil of the Old World. They are Dylori.
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.
Of fire, but not elementals. Short-lived, yet intelligent. Bound to this world they are, more than most of its mortal inhabitants.
The Caretakers of the Vast City - Stoneholt, a race of great skill, persistence, and antiquity…
These creatures are foul things that prey on the weakness of loss. Their home society, and indeed, their home, in completely unknown, as all that have been found have been killed to out standards.
"Some creatures are simply hard to talk with. Take the Krys for example…"
Originating in sector B12, they spread the gift of life to future generations.
Now was to be the Third such invasion, and who knows who would be writing the records….
They were formidable even before they learned how to use weapons.
Nahactl, the Wanderer
The road has never been more than an overgrown mud track, little travelled and little cared for, petered out to nothing more than a flattened earthen line, barely distinguishable from the rest of the landscape. The soil is dark and fecund and dark oaks stand like sentinels at the forest edge, their branches high and leafy. From them hang grizzly human bones, skulls and shiny precious stones. Who put these strange totems there? Are they warnings? Do the PCs dare to take the stones?