A most useful race - if one can get past their appearance, and avoid being eaten...
Beware, beware, the hidden snare.
Where the shadows linger, and fiends do fare.
Go on, run, hide and pray.
For the elder crow feasts,
on our souls' decay.
Mix and match to your player's horror,the apex predator in the Stolen World
In a world without almost any gods ,sometimes you have to take what you get. A tale of the Stolen World
A list of thirty different dragon flavours, in no particular order, just waiting for your campaign to give them life. (although I really wanted to, you will find no "Tandoori Dragon" or "Barbecue Dragon" or "Egg Salad Dragon" here. Not that kind of 'flavour')
To all space explorers, rogue traders and Federation colonisation and expeditionary force officers!
Thirty new alien species have been discovered. You are well-advised to inform yourselves, as to engage these entities correctly, without risk of harm to yourself or to the interests of Terra.
Ten of the described species are human in origin, yet modified to such a degree that they no longer need to be considered human.
Another ten are civilisation-building aliens competing with Terra for available space.
The final ten entries are remarkable life forms that display sapience, without using it to create civilisations. Caution is advised.
Ancient stone guardians of a fallen empire that have watched the world form, fall, and reform over the millenniums.
What do you mean they are organized and using weapons? We destroyed a group a week ago, they were but simple zombies then...
The precursor to the skeletron, the PPAC Sanzang robot demonstrated the strengths of the fighting robot, and also, ultimately, it's weaknesses
"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."
Stormbound, the ship rolls hard over to once side. All that is not strapped down is tossed violently overboard in a splash of freezing water.
There, on the horizon- a tower. Squat, it stands alone on a tiny island. However, it's the only land in sight, and any more of this ferocious storm will crush the boat to splinters.
Taking shelter within the ornate entryway of the squat tor, the party notes with interest that no signs of life break the silence of the stone tower. As they take another step forward, they realise why.
This is the fabled tower of Brenji, a rich merchant who wished none to share his enormous wealth. He constructed this tower to store his gold- trapped and ready for any potential thieves. But the ingenious pitfalls and scything walls are not the only dangers within the silent walls of the building. A guardian, left behind by Brenji, still stalks these very halls.
A rattling hiss echoes somewhere from below...