“Come in, come in. I knew you were coming.
How did I know? Your brother told me.
Yes, yes I know your brother died in the war several years ago, he has told me all about it.”
All know that Elves cannot die, and that Men do. All know that Men go unto the Underworld upon their death, and that the Elves retire unto the Spiritual Elysium. Yet in the Great Scheme, where goes the one with one foot in the Underworld, and one foot in the Realm of Spirit?
When one cannot die, obsession with death is such a natural thing.
This might not be suitable for the squeamish or easily offended.
...And then the evil necromancer killed everyone and made them into zombies to do really evil things. I mean really evil, kicking puppies, eating kittens and making lewd sexual gestures at unsuspecting shoppers at Wal-Mart. Yeah and he had a severed head for a hat and was eating a sandwich made out of real lady-fingers…
Not strong of body, and questionable of mind, she has a kind heart and one special talent. She is not a healer of wounds, or even of people, she heals the souls of creatures. She feels sympathy for even the most hideous and terrible of creatures, and when her tears for them fall upon them, their hearts are moved and their evil ways ended(for a little while at least).
A healer of great power and kindness, she is rumored to even be able to heal the dead, if you can find her.
Corina Archerus is a researcher and a wizard. She is also completely blind.
“That was the second lynching this month. And last week they haven beaten some old sod that could barely crawl home.”
“Well, he was a drinker and bad to his wife, sir. It is really hard work they do, and not for much pay. But sir, we are doing wonderfully, all is going as planned and better!”
“Yes, the cathedral could be built months before expected, if we can keep up this speed. You are all doing great work, I’ll be sure to inform the Patriarch. Just take care no accidents happen anymore.”
She wanted a Genii as her magical slave, but when the spell went wrong, she ended up becoming one herself…
Human in a previous existence,one thing about this former Captain’s life has been left unchanged by its brush with the Black Tide.
An old, wise and learned wizard, he tends to forget more about the world than most people have learned, most often the most basic things.
A socially inept and ugly human monk, with a smattering of arcane skills, on a quest of vengeance to find his mentor’s killers.
Raven man is half raven an half man. He has bird feet and wings.
Larkin thought that she was just like the other girls in her village. Her mother was a local crofter, but her father was an incredibly wealthy man who was seldom around but cared very deeply for her mother. Now her mother has passed away, her father hasnt come back, and things are starting to happen to her, things that are neither natural or explainable…
Patrick Greenbottle was once a normal halfling with a love of potions. Now he has been transformed into something much more.
When did it all start? He would never know for sure, although he traces it, like a finger on a map following the broad river back to the invisible thread of the beginnings, to one evening early winter.
A great demon of death and destruction.
Tainted. Witch. Hellspawn. Freak. Monster. How often does one have to hear this until ... she makes the decision to stand up, stand up for them all?
Darken Flind is capable of harnessing the raw power generate from sacrifice and forge the struggling soul-essence into magical runes and charms. Bloodforging, as the practice is known, tends to be less subtle and benevolent than other forms of magic. However, a bloodbound object can be incredibly potent and deadly in the wrong hands.
(Name translates directly from ancient Egyptian as: Strong Protector, the Hidden One.) A mysterious shaman appearing without regard to wheres and whens, upon the divine bidding of other Realms. An entity of legend, belonging to a legendary and ancient sect.
An insidious creature, most likely somehow "related" to trappers and lurkers, the Dead Leaves (for no other name exists as of yet for this foul thing), hibernates for three of the four year's seasons, deep underground. Its active time is Autumn, when trees shed their leaves, depositing colorful carpets across the ground. The terror then emerges and blends in with the surrounding leaves, perfectly camouflaged, waiting patiently for unsuspecting victims. In appearance it resembles nothing more than a ten foot square, six inch thick, layer of bright yellow, orange, and red leaves. The only hint that someone is walking on top of it, comes in the form of an unusual amplified sound of leaves crunching underfoot. Too late usually, the victims notice this additional "crunch". The Dead Leaves will then swirl and "rise" up to smother and suffocate the victim, like a colorful, malevolent, boa constrictor.
Fire, as can be imagined, is particularly effective against this creature, but one has to *know* it's there before putting it to the torch. And there's the rub. The creature is impossible to "identify" in a large patch of fallen leaves by eyesight alone.