"Which one? Oh, him. He be Pancratius. Yeah, he's a bit moody, but he's all right when you get to know him. Ya see, back in the day, and by that I mean his day, before you an' I were born, he was a big shot. The gods loved him, and one day, he asked for a gift that turned out to be a curse. Once he figured out the horrible side o' his gift, he sought out an oracle, to figure out how to get rid of it. Ol' Pancratius ne'er did tell me what the oracle said. The gift? Didn't I tell ye? No? It be immortality."
-Old Gerald, man in the pub.
Brief bio of a space intel officer
The BRS Gwynith is an air ship of the Byrlothian Resistance. She is sentient, needing no crew to fly or man her, though she generally has a crew aboard for doing repairs and to go where she cannot.
An alloy of iron and iridescent meteoric metal, also known as shadesteel. Weapons forged of this metal cause gangreneous infections almost instantly and sometimes the victims becomes a shambling zombie after death. The material is very vulnerable to fresh water which will cause it to corrode and eventually melt in a period of hours to days.