Loathsome creatures born of magic gone hideously awry, the trolls of Kuramen are little more than ever-hungry masses of cancerous tissue.
Though each drone possesses little intelligence of its own, together, they are the Kth’k'k’kt, who span the stars.
These lovely people had the unfortunate luck of living adjacent to a zenophobic bug race and a species that would defend their colonies
Synthetic Bioforms: (Syns, Synths, SBF): The use of synthetic people helps alleviate the manpower shortage and most real peoples’ dislike for manual labor. They are also cheaper, easier to utilize, and easier to maintain than robots in most situations. Encyclopedia Galactica 2453ed
There it was, big as two horses and all scales and wicked looking head. thought we was alldead, we did. Then the beastie did the damndest thing. Instead of breathin fire on us, or cursin us with magic it started eatin one of the damned bushes.
Explorer Kurold the Hammer
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.
The deadly legacy of a vindictive demon, Shugrat’s lust is to be feared by those who dread to sin..
I know. I know. It sounds crazy. But look at it! Look at what it is doing. The lightning strikes! Three times right on top of us. The hail. It just struck our car. The Wind hitting the house so hard. It is after us. It wants something. And, if we can figure out what it wants, I say we give it to ... it.
The everyday kin to the elementals and the demons
It is pitch black. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.
Bringing more fantastic elements to the old classic.
The Dark Kind came to the world as conquerors. They failed. Now they are odd neighbors.
Pitiable creatures, wandering forever in search of that denied them, unable to rest even as they crumble away to little more than crawling wrecks of bones.
"My god, what is that?"
"Orcweed, sir. Never need a wall with this growing."
Burninating the countryside,
Burninating the peasants
Burninating all the peoples
And their thatched-roof COTTAGES!
The leftover remnants of Mind can sometimes cling to existence when the Body fails and the Spirit departs…
You see a glowing figure, four feel tall, it looks like it has been waiting for you. Suddenly, it flies right through you, and it looks like its coming around for another pass…
Known in these times as shalgiel, these beings were guardians created through ancient magic for purposes which are now forgotten.
Behold, the Harbinger of ill-tidings, the blizzard rider, the thief of winter, the Stamagast.
Unleashed from the high white temples of Hosok in massive swarms, the Handvermin are among the lowliest and most disgusting of the children of the Hand That Sees
War of the Roses as a campaign plot. Two noble lines converge somehow, each line thinks it has the rightful claim to the throne. Deciding this long ago was handled by some divine intervention, requiring both houses to come together at some point. They aren't so willing to get together this time. Civil war, or a new king?