Negev demons can take the shape of humans or elves and feed on emotions rather then on meat or vegtables.
Gahrafahas is Bastard Demonspeak and is derived from ghrazh’fualzh’s, true DemonSpeak for ‘‘those who come from the Skies’’ or ‘‘the Sky Ones.’’
Hideous creatures, they stand motionless and filled with intense sorrow at their existence.
Buzurivambavas is Bastard Demonspeak, and comes from the true Demonspeak bzhuu’vhambv’s, which means “carrying and crawling one”, or “one that carries and crawls”. They are a subtle kind of demon, and do not exhibit the terrible rage and bloodthirst of some other demons.
New and different types of infernal fiends. Give all the demons, devils and other evil creatures you can imagine.
Faith is a powerful thing.
Belief in ones self can help you push yourself beyond the limits imagined.
Belief in others can raise spirits and make them work with greater fervor.
Belief in a religion can make people perform actions which would otherwise be unacceptable.
Once however, long ago in times forgotten, someone believed so deeply; so strongly, that in an eternity of darkness, a glass eye opened.
Gaze into her lovely eyes and and revel in your throes of passion as your flesh enters a most pleasurable state of union with hers..
Enjoy it well, for what comes after will not be as pleasant..
‘‘I am so very sorry to interupt your grand schemes for seizing control of the nether-realm, but I am afraid that my master, the Lord of the Desolate Shore, has raised some serious objections..’’
Sun haters and child snatchers they may be, but you can’t deny their fashion sense..
The abominable spawn of Ll’hhrau, the Thing Behind The Sky, the Minotauri descend from above, hideous and awful perversions of natural life.
The children of the Sea of Pandemonium, the Viles of Salt are always thirsty, and they draw water from living beings with even a single brush from their crusty white flesh, dessicating those who are touched.
The Seyeverasin are supernaturally excellent musicians- no other can play a cello as well as them, and when the moon wanes, one may hear their haunting phantom strains echoing about night-time mountain cliffs, by dark pools, and in places where mortals no longer go or have never gone.
The Lavas are animalistic warrior-demons who converge in packs like lice on the inconceivable walls of Hell, filled with inconceivable fury and berzerk bloodthirst.
Where the ships float, empty, and the ocean lay wide and empty, where the northern lights shine and the winds chill live the Gesthari. Wraithlike predators who ride the storms.
“Check the right flank, it seems to be weakening. be damned for their commander. I knew of Convius when I was fighting my way up to this position. It grieves me to say this, send in a stalker. Without him standing among his legions they will fall on our flank.
it grieves me that after today, I will not pit myself against him in battle one last time.”
Legatus Suuhai - Commander of the Minotaur Armies of the Blades - The Demon Wars
From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.
- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.
“I see an upstart within the ranks of the Ba’craht. This can not be. I, Sarku the Impaler of a Thousand Children, am forced to qwell those who try to supplant their superiors yet again. It is good to be me.”
Sarku the Impaler of a Thousand Children, Murder of the Coup of Hundred Souls, Judge of the Three
Abject beauty corupted with a dark soul and no heart. Can beauty be the ultimate evil?
“Sir, Legatus Suuhai has commanded us to hold and prepare for flank attacks from the enemy. He said we are to hold and be ready to sweep among them. Your order?
Order? If Legatus Suuhai says to hold then we wait. He among the half breeds I respect. He stands like a bastion of strength when those stronger leave puddles at their feet. He says hold, we hold. But tell the others, soon we shall run and blood shall spill this day at our hooves and claws and the Dark Moon shall reign superior yet again.”
Sedecim Ductor Octavious - Commander of the 6th Divortium of the Army of Blades.
"Reports of those damned Atistaur are filtering back among the Hundtaur. Send a unit over to have them silenced. The last thing I need is something else in my brain telling me what I need to do.
Slaughter them all and pray to the Weapon that Kills that this day will be bloody. Sing the song of your God and may they get you through today!"
- Legatus Suuhai - Commander of the Minotaur Armies of the Blades
“The threat of the enemy flanking me is our concern. Send in three of the Hundtaur to find any hidden resources. Tell one of them to seek out their general I know his name, we were clutched together in our infancy. He is the closest thing to a brother we could have. Have the Hundtaur kill him publically to break their moral.
Slaughter them all and pray to the Weapon that Kills that this day will be bloody. Sing the song of your God and may they get you through today!”
- Legatus Suuhai - Commander of the Minotaur Armies of the Blades
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.