There's more to the Dembraava Wilds than just deformed beasts and unicorn husks. In that place there are also men--or something very similar to men--and no one has ever recovered one of their corpses.
Not all of the mermaids and sea sirens are half fish, there are other things that live in the sea
A blue green jewel, Beta Delphini II, home of the turtle like Chelonians. The world is old, and bears many scars, the craters from orbital bombardment and high power explosions, rings of dust and debris that were once starships, habitats, and fighter craft. But the world below remains tranquil, its wounds covered with blue seas and green forests.
Hexenwolf – Magic, Were Creature, subclass Wolf
Hexenwolf are difficult to find and track. Those who are gifted with such ability usually keep it hidden and to themselves. All seem to be lost however to spiral down a long road of animalism if they are not careful.
Dr. Johan Kosdin Lerkoviski Were-Hunter
"Sivver is the common name given to crystalline parasites, which interact with the nervous systems of carbon based Chordate life forms."
Definition of the word Sivver provided by the Galactic Scouting Guild's Almanac
“The Sivvers are an alien weapon that turns people into murderous glass sweating zombies.”
Uwell Ofmobile, retired Galactic Scout
A name shrouded in the mists of time. A scheme of pure genius. A relic of the Mage Wars.
"That Inquisitor...what's his name? Hellenbrecht something? Matthias Hellenbrecht, I think it were? Don't let him near me again - made my skin crawl... You know that look you give a juicy steak after a straight day or two of marching? I swear to Iocath, he was giving me that very look."
-Private Dalton Hayes, Imperial Levy 304
Hailing from the giant swamp planet of Acadia, the Leech Lords rule with a mighty will. And slimy green tentacles.
Toltep walked slowly along the avenue, it would have been easier to swim along in the viaduct, but he had made it a point to not do the easy thing. All to often the easy path lead to ruin, and he had not survived so long by taking shortcuts, or the easy road. The market, what was above water, was abuzz with conversation. A large school of blood-crazed lurdi had been diverted into an ambush where the brave people had slaughtered the monsters. There was some worry, Toltep gathered, as a few had escaped.
"I have no love for these aliens."
-Jax the Chronicler
One way of getting here, The Concave, is through conflagration of your Soul. Not a nice way to arrive, but at least you'll have the benefit of a guide, unlike most others.
Death cults, worshipers of dark powers, necromancers, and eaters of the dead. Individually these cults are horrible in society and the repercussions can have lasting effects on those they influence and affect. But what if that not just a small group tried to influence their belief on a people, but an entire people tried to use their belief to take over the world?
The battle between the Daemon and the Styarm was most bloodthirsty. The Daemon battled with fiery rage against the Styarm's thunder and lightning. They clashed and the heavens shook. It was as if the heavens and the molten rock below clashed and bled.
That is a part of the tale of the Untold War. This is the beginning tale of the Kaur.
30 various vampiric varieties
There are a number of ways to reach The Concave; it seems that falling is one of them, but falling from where?
An attempt to gather my thoughts on the cosmology and history of the Locastus setting.
I´m not quite finished with it, but I´m throwing it out there anyway
The excited, almost frantic sound of a mallet instrument erupts from the forest to your left. Within minutes, your party is confronted by a host of short, sprite-like gnomes clad in vivid greens and earthy browns. Attempts to communicate fall flat. The gnomes seem to ignore your words entirely, and you cannot understand the humming/whistling/snapping that apparently makes up their language. Luckily for you and your fellows, however, they don't seem hostile . . .
"Are you lost in the frost?" A lone giant speaks, a cloud of chill air escaping his blue-lipped mouth.
In the distance, through a thick fog, you can see more of them coming out a cave lit by blue light. Almost like a portal to the netherworld is it’s eerie glow. You can feel fear growing in your belly. These aren’t normal giants. Their skin is blue, their hair and eyes silver. Stone jewelry hangs about their bodies making them look like brickwork monsters.
"Tiny man," The leader speaks, icicles breaking and falling from his jowls. "What brings you so far north?"
Beau yet alien, the soldier-concubines of Aerazad, the Returned King, are a glowing reminder that a new order reigns in Eversea.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...