The muggers cornered the little goblin against the wall, when with a hissing noise he suddenly grew to double his size. Muscles bulged out from his body and they lokked at each other, then turned and ran. The Sproggan watched them go and grinned at the thought of how well he had fooled them, and when they were gone he deflated back to his normal size and went on his way.
Known as the Plateau of Dread, the desert where the civilization of the Thauns once shimmered is now a wasteland battled over by immortal tyrants.
Though each drone possesses little intelligence of its own, together, they are the Kth’k'k’kt, who span the stars.
‘‘I tell you, if you seek to cross the dunes of the great desert alone, you will never return. Vile fiends dwell there, evil monsters that delight in feasting upon the flesh of men. I fear that if you persist in your foolish quest, you like the others before you, will end your days as a feast for these foul denizens of the desert’‘.
These lovely people had the unfortunate luck of living adjacent to a zenophobic bug race and a species that would defend their colonies
You can hear the song from miles away. The song is enchanting in a mild way. Even the plants sing this haunting tune all day. This gives you fair warning to be ready to dance to a different tune. You are leaving your country and entering theirs.
Of all the threats space travelers may face, few are as difficult to predict as Gamma Goblins.
The Stargate universe has revealed to humanity many of its secrets, and left more open. One of the most persistent mysteries stay the Furlings.
The deadly legacy of a vindictive demon, Shugrat’s lust is to be feared by those who dread to sin..
The Hunter, with his bow nocked, moved quietly through the underbrush. Not quietly enough. The Elgr spotted him; he had no idea what he was looking at: It was an eight foot tall Elk standing upright, and not only was it standing… it was… dancing? Quickly twirling with ribbons streaming from its antlers, it was coming closer…
Bringing more fantastic elements to the old classic.
The Dark Kind came to the world as conquerors. They failed. Now they are odd neighbors.
Burninating the countryside,
Burninating the peasants
Burninating all the peoples
And their thatched-roof COTTAGES!
The genesis of Gurgustius and Gorboduc and the curse upon their father Brutus is a terrible legend. Who knows if it is true? But it is the only way to account for the hideous sutured spawn of the King who is hidden.
The Wordfishes of Hloth, known also as the Sshpah, are strange composite-minds of the Hlothian jungles.
You could only hear the rest of them. And you could only hear them because they didn’t mind being heard. Running in the trees they were. We followed the little guy named Dorto. He led us to a spot and said in broken Gallen, "Here is village". There was nothing there I tell you. We looked about and could not see a thing. He smiled and pointed up. You could see it then, the huts and nests and ropes. A bunch of them were just hanging there by their feet looking at us. It was going to be an odd night. Exerpt from A Sailor’s Journey, by Ptholus WindRider
Concluders haunt the frozen lands of their home in search of knowledge.
Blessed by the spirits of the forests, these feline creatures have barely begun the long, slow climb to civilization.
Gnomes, fascinated with magic, tried to find a way to safely access it, and instead wound up addicted in the deadliest way.
Clarence was singing in harmony as his kind is wont to do. Their singing reinforced the "song of existance". It was a somewhat important job, even though only a handful were needed rather than the hundreds that did so. He and others near him noticed the pin prick discordence in the weave of melody that was the material realm. Those dark alien notes rose up. The Angel Mind touch the Divine and followed the new sub melody. Humans would call it a plan. Angels dove to the material realm and, of course, if any world was going to be causing problems, it had to be Earth. Oh well, at least Clarence would know his way around.
The Hierophant of Greenmarch is a lycanthrope. Rather than seeking a cure, or hiding his condition, he considers it a blessing from the Goddess of the moon, and requires that all of the Druids and loyal Rangers of Greenmarch to share in his gift.