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
These ghastly beings are corrupted to do the bidding of Hosok, The Hand That Sees
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.
Alive with emotion -
Constantly in motion -
With inner voice, ‘hind innocent face -
a cunning mind -
Metal fairies in the depths of space?
The mall was all in motion as the tide of people moved to and fro. From behind the Santa Photospot, it formed. The circular "wreath" manifested. The Green Monsters slipped through The Gateway. When they numbered five, they lumbered forward. Breaking through the Santa Photo Display, they began their destruction of Christmas.
Also known as Vampires.
Within this ancient tome are 30 companion spirits for wizards and their ilk.
"I do so wish that my work didn’t make such a wretched mess. At least the worms clean it up."
These are the various races of humans in Locastus, City of Mirrors.
Farmers believe that once a crop has been harvested the corn spirits are homeless, and will leave the field to search for a new home. The Scarecrow will remain in the fields during winter, providing a refuge for the corn spirit until the new harvest is planted in spring.
Predator, nightstalker, brother to beasts, call me a monster long enough brother and I very well might become one.
Jaurmes, Augrune woodcutter
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...