“The Armored Avenger is dead!"
"Look at him! He looks like hamburger, but his admantium armor is untouched! What could have done that?”
The poor boy.. Man, I mean. I tend to forget his age, given his appearance...
A warped and twisted, low-standing, tree covered in dark bark. It's wild, overgrown tangle of branches creep across the ground in a large circle. The entire thing is covered in a multitude of thorns that shift from a bright acidic green to a deep blood red.
Beautiful, crystalline beings...with an incompleteness inside...
The rotting ghoul sunk it's teeth into the girl's throat, tearing it open, and then laid her down, and as she died, so the rotting body that had murdered her ceased rotting. Milky white eyes became green ones with normal pupils. Maggots swarmed out of the body, the damage they caused healing rapidly,and the stench of flesh gone bad vanished. The Xarloccian swore to itself that it would always tread the path of Evil from now on, just one earlier act of Good had nearly rotted away it's body and sent it's soul to the Nine Hells.
Six months of hunting, six months of research and paying coin to scholars and sages, and now that we have the legendary wand of Geohadris the Stone King, it only summons stupid boulderkin? I am outraged beyond imagination!
"It was just after nightfall when it came; a horrible, rotten mass of bone and flesh, with a voice that was like a thousand screams braided together. I only survived because I ran - I ran and I've never stopped running, because I know it's after me. Me, and everyone else who was there when the city of Vesta was slaughtered." -Hans, Former Captain turned nomad
Small puppets who take on the likeness of their owner upon death. They act as a silent sentry, militia, or officer of the law in the war stricken Dim-Sii Tribes of the Southern Lands
Wooden constructs skilled in the art of battle as well as extermination.
The Harakan have been created with only one purpose in mind. They hunt the despised slaves of the Empire
This just in from the BBC. It seems a number of medieval archers and swordsmen have stopped a Grinch Attack in Nottingham mall. We take you live to....
A.k.a. Belcher, Fleshbag, Mr. Soupy, Spitter, or a Walking Cauldron
Support for your zombie legions...
It may be wondered why packs of wolves, Giant Spiders and other such animals would attack PCs, when said PCs are normally armed to the teeth with deadly weapons and spells. Surely it would make more sense to attack weaker prey? Sometimes it is because the PCs are threatening the animal's territory or cubs or egg sac. Sometimes the animals may be crazed with hunger. Or it may be because the animals have become infected by Atissi worms.
Have you noticed that The Elves all belong to the same culture, all speak the same langauge, and all seem to be equally good at everything? I have a theory about that.
Descended from humanity, the orcs of Kuramen are a far cry from the bloodthirsty savages of many other worlds.
Flame fowl, brightest red chickens you will ever see, nice feathers for fletching arrows, but I'd pass on the omlet.
More subtle than artillery, Mul'Tals, the siege-vine of the Kel'Regar, is more than capable of reducing the strongest of defenses to rubble, growing, twisting, and devouring its way through them.
"For days, we've heard nothing but cricketsong, from the coming of dust to an hour past dawn. Nothing he happened, but I'm sure something will."
last journal entry, Traggion the Explorer
Is not disease the rule of existence? There is not a lily pad floating on the river but has been riddled by insects? -Henry David Thoreau
Walking through the alleys of the docks district of town, you hear an old, mad beggar calling out for alms. He claims to be a god, cast out from heaven and stripped of his powers. The party passes, tossing a few coppers to him. In thanking them, the madman refers to incidents in their childhood or distant past which would have been all but impossible for him to know.