He is the one that whispers dreams of power and conquest in the ears of those in positions of power (or positions to take said power). He not only motivates them, he gives them ideas and plans (which they think are their own) to conquer the city/ country/ world. He manipulates the weaker minds around him, so they will follow his designated puppet. Using their own greed and lusts, his puppets will destroy the world as it is now… turning it into one where Gathrack and his kin would thrive.
And who would suspect a pet cat as the instigator of a world in chaos.
Khass was one of the greatest friends I ever had. So of course, what choice did I have but to save him?
Dear gods above, what have I done?
Always on the cutting edge of fashion and the talk of the courts, Mialee the Beautiful is the supermodel of the fantastic world…
A lich who is worshipped as a god.
Once a tool awakened on purpose, the looming stones have outlived their masters but not their purpose
Everyone knows that that Senthia Khlack died with her father, the Duke Eldward Khlack, after their failed Rebellion. But what they do not is that Senthia still lives, after a fashion.
The mighty dragon - arrogant, though rightly so, for what blade can pierce such beautiful armour? What warrior can match its lithe, graceful movements and raw power? But what if such a regal, magestic beast were cut down to size? What if it became human, itself?
A secluded mage garbed only in black, an obvious aura of corruption exuding from him. His emotions seem to be absent, and evil is more than a desire to him. Its a necessity.
Those that know him have long ago forgotten his last name if he ever had one. Once a respected adventurer of great reknown he has since fell into mindlessness and general senility. An elf of no little confusion, his great knowledge is still available, just difficult to get to.
Locked away for his crimes by the gods themselves, he is the greatest spellcaster of all time.
A simple flag, faded by time and sun, tattered and worn by untold years flying from the pole of a bannerman, passing hands from officer to officer, from one generation to another. It is a humble symbol of great importance, and greater inspiration to those who see it. Soldiers become heros filled with espirit de corps, enemies loose their nerve and fire. It is not an enchanted item, but a powerful item still...