The guards who spend their working lives behind the walls of the Paul and Peter Fortress, watching over the scum of society so that you don’t have to.
The Commander of Confederation Special Operations Unit 13, the Star Falcons, Peregrine-0004.7 is an extravagant, yet highly effecient soldier. Time and time again, he has lead the Oraki black-ops teams to success, keening his unnerving war-cry.
"I have discovered that subtlety cannot give me what is rightfully mine. So I’ll just take it back."
Yet another list of 30, this time fiendish foes, vile villians, and and dastardly do-badders.
An outcaste goblin with a sadistic streak and a secret talent
Stonedeath is a goblin assassin, but much more than that. His new form allows him to scale walls, fight with uncanny agility, and above all that; he has a hatred for adventurers.
Mercenaries and bounty hunters? We don’t need the help of scum like that.
30 Guards, who in peacetime patrol the Palace and in wartime are the Royal Bodyguards and the King’s last defence.
Even the boldest quake with fear of the Kobelyn Cavalry of Terkuss Tahkhan! Especially if they’re on the same side!
The greatest of chieftains, uniter of the hordes, harbringer of chaos, many names he held, yet what is the truth behind one of the greatet Orc leaders of all time?
Every soldier knows he may be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice. What he doesn’t always know is the depth of the other sacrifices he may be called upon to make.
“She’s dead, Jim.” “We have the technology, we can rebuild her.” “... Yes. But should we?” “We must, in order to counter his scheming.” “Then we’ll do it.”
You find yourself captured by Goblins. (We won’t ask, we know it is embarassing.) Looking for your escape, you begin to watch the Goblins. Suprisingly, they are a fairly complex bunch.
Piash is a half-elf outcast deep within an imperial province. He has been rejected by everyone around him his entire life. He has no family, even his last name, Nildar means ‘no-clan’. But his mixed blood holds a curse that is finally starting to surface.
The grim and often belligerent denizens of the Grand Duchy of Nyir
Once a decorated Theosian Soldier, now a wanted deserter.
The jaguar stood at the door of the temple. The smell of blood from within assailed his keen senses. He placed one paw, and then another, over the threshold. The priest walked to the door, as the sun’s light faded, and greeted the warrior Tepiltzin.
The party had driven the beasts to the edge of the cliffs, the kill was swift. Tlilpotonqui smiled broad and warm. It had been a fine day. His smile faded as he spied the crescent Moon already hanging delicately in the sky. The west was fading to pinks and golds. In his excitement, he had forgotten the time. He fell back, letting the party get well ahead, and turned towards the cliffs. As the last rays of the Sun faded he dove towards the rocky waters below…
Darome Rikael. Not a name of fear, but rather one of pity.
Legendary hero, founder of the Bukdek Empire, fearless warrior and warlord, amoral barbarian, and vicious bandit.
In a crowded marketplace, a man is standing on a soapbox, orating. Some of the crowd are cheering, some hissing, some standing around saying "I can't hear a bl**dy word he's saying". It's a hustings for an election. The PCs can either leave, or stay and listen. If they do the latter, then they can vote too, and they might get quite involved in the cheering. Depending on who wins they might get quite involved in the post-election brawl too...
There are numerous possibilities with this encounter: the PCs might end up talking to one of the nervous candidates before their speech, and offer encouragement and support. Of course this candidate may well turn out to be someone with outspokenly unorthodox views, and the crowd don't take kindly to s/his supporters. Or maybe the seemingly innocuous candidate turns out to be a complete racist, and the PCs wander off embarrassedly, pretending they weren't talking to this person five minutes ago.