Sometimes the old ways are best. A pivotal undead sorcerer.
There are some types of evil that are not easily recognizable as such. Much like the mountain-top ascetic or the cloistered saint, there is no obvious sign of the darkness that lurks inside Vodai.
All Maire wanted was to give her husband a child. She wasn't about to let death stand in the way.
"I will give man his threescore and ten, and then give him more. Death himself will fall before me."
Immortality can be had, but for a cost. Some are willing to pay this price, some are willing to make others pay the price. So long as there is gold in my hand I care not.
It's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart
No one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream
Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster
Skillet ~ Monster
Story & details of a demon lord trapped in a mortal shell
"Have mercy? Dear, foolish, man, the Mistress’s mercy is the only gift I have to give."
Unique among the sea monsters that infest the oceans of Acqua, this abomination is cursed with a hunger for power that can never be satisfied.
A young Kumbra seeking knowledge from humans and fulfilling the unlikely roll of protector of a trade route.
Meyurk is a Egoyo, a hermit with dangerous friends, and a mystic home..
"You do not need to be a cleric to bring light into the world."
(a Mage follower of Isis, npc suitable for any fantasy campaign with gods of light.)
Soft, squeezable, and potentially deadly. Mallow is to be cuddled and feared!
Once an outcast spirit of the cold, now the malevolent lord of a realm of winter unending…
The daughter of a long line of Shinto priestesses, Mei has sworn to protect her adopted city of Washington from the dark godlings that infest it, feeding upon the greed and lust of those who live there. There’s just one little hitch…
At first glance, Edrea seems to be a very nice lady. She seems to be sensible and kind, the perfect matron for an orphanage. But, of course, that is all merely an act.
Magic is a blessing and curse, life and death, birth and undoing, a goal and a way.
Hachnar T’ Velstrad
An insular alchemist walking two paths..
“Seizing this one was far easier then I expected,” thought Yuther the devil, ” he puts up no fight!
“No my lord!” cried Herithi. “Have Mercy! Take my eyes instead!” Why did I say that?! thought Herithi, shock registering through him.My eyes? Shalali protect me…
The old clock tower stands tall, but the bulk of the uppermost storey is crumbling and unsafe, with gaping cracks in the walls. The metal struts and girders supporting the great bronze bells are still intact, though, and the bells survive. The grotesque gargoyles and arabesques which decorated the original design have either fallen into the street (once or twice a year more bricks fall from the tower, prompting calls for its demolition) or have been defaced, but the main doors to the clock tower are still intact and show signs of being kept in working order. This is the home of The Captains, clad in raggedy clothes, with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor. They live to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wims ghost keeps the core of a childs innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders. They are a group of street children who live in the clock tower. Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they’re all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.