"We just thought the winter was worse'n usual. Turns out we had an unexpected visitor. Wasn't until poor Dave and Glenda... died... that we finally got a clue. By then it was almost too late. You know how many of us'll never be the same? Oh, you doubt me, do you? Look in my eye, son, and tell me what you don't see. Yeah, I thought so. Damned Snow Devil!"
If life hands you lemons, make lemonade.
If life puts you in charge of defending a gold mining operation and you are only a mage....well
A strange mask containing a merciless demon, a parasite on those around it.
From the same school of thought as, "Hey GM, which book did I just randomly pull from the shelf of the wizards' library?" No plot hooks here, just flavor additions.
Also known as demons, mutants, and monsters, Youma were once human beings.
Cold, mystic master manipulators.
The adventurers hear a noise and turn, only to see a bottle clatter down the street. Shrugging it off, they continue on their way, blissfully unaware of the hulking mass of junk taking shape behind them...
Droids, Drones, and the Neo-Cortex.
Strange creatures, half dreamed half imagined, figments of delerium, wisps of insanity.
"They're many names given to the things of this vast consciousness that we don't understand, are afraid of, or otherwise just don't want to be associated with. These creatures, though familiar in appearance to many common races, have no name for themselves, but have been appropriately named "Concordare Iram", Translated: Harmonized Rage."
Also known as automatics, dummies, skinnies, and mannikins.
Genimals are the stock and trade of BioCreches and one of the foundation technologies of the biosphere repair effort
The Fae, they are called, though the reason they are not called by their true name, the Fairies, has been lost to the ages- at least, by the humans. The other races know, the other races know well of the Fae.
Humans have a very short memory. The elves, the dwarves, the goblins, the orcs, they don't. They remember of the interactions between Atheians and the Fae all those years ago in that other age. They know what happened. But the humans... they have forgotten.
This is why they will be the first to die.
"That's old lady Serisia's house... We don't go in there anymore." the children looked forlornly through the iron fence to their lost ball, deep within the overgrown gardens of the massive front yard.
From deep in the foliage, a menacing 'Yowl' sounded, followed by an eerie droning.
This sub is a little bit silly.
Trapped in Atheus, blocked from returning to their home of Congeria, the daimon is (usually) a minor demon- though this does not mean that they are not a highly deadly adversary.
Favored minion of the necromancer Warmaker, the Ossilyth is a tank of an undead.
A model of efficiency and effectiveness, also a model of horror in the Cosmic era
Written in support of the Flight of Retribution, a Cosmic Era splatbook
The panic inducing robotic shock troopers of the Cosmic Era.
A collection of Chinese mythical lifeforms representing Bad Omens or associated with the onset of Disasters
Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.