A harvest queen, a druid of war, a monarch of leaves.
A burned and withered female elven ranger, with a hatred of giants, a love for animals, and a desire to seek out and thank the man who saved her life and disappeared just as quickly.
Has your kid been acting strangely? Returning home late at night, bearing bruises and clothes torn? Something else than puberty may be the reason.
Some elves lose patience teaching the ‘young’ races, and set out to employ harsher methods. A few doubt the very intent of mother nature, and set out to bring their own vision to life.
An environmentally-minded dwarf who opposes the mining of the Kalorsan, the exploitation of goblins in mines and the poisonous, choking fumes from the furnaces of Tr’S-Nang. He is an active member of “Green War”, the dwarfish environmentalist sect, who (though they have renounced their innate dwarfish industrialism) have yet to reach the stage of pacifistic demonstration.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.