The remnent of a much older time, the Methranar, the Icerender, the Lurker, is a figure prominant in the Megamoth Hunter’s legends.
..and from the heaps of the fallen burst a nightmarish creature, sinuous death, like a snake with legs, the dying fires of the battlefields reflecting in its glittering scales. Mounted on its back, in dark, light-absorbing armour and wielding a lightning-wreathed lance, sat a monstrous knight, the horns on his helmet marking him as a Knight of the Locastrian Heron Guard.
He and his mount fell on me and my unit and from that encounter; I was the only survivor….
Excerpt from A SoldierÃ‚Â´s Tale by Sgt. Amonar Trask (ret) of the Home Guard of Akral Tel
"Gak! Cough! I just swallowed a bug."
The living airships of Locastus, City of Mirrors
The crystal dragons of Sogth VII are strange and sinuous beasts, be they stalking across the land on their four legs, and swimming through the ammonia seas.
There it was, big as two horses and all scales and wicked looking head. thought we was alldead, we did. Then the beastie did the damndest thing. Instead of breathin fire on us, or cursin us with magic it started eatin one of the damned bushes.
Explorer Kurold the Hammer
The warrior flung himself to one side as a huge toothy head leapt out of the pool in front of him, gnashed at him and then withdrew "What is that thing?"
"A Giant River Wyrm, and it’s a good thing that they sicken so quickly, or you would have been wyrm food."
The Nightmare War did more than end the Old Empire, it turned a massive swath of once fertile land into the unimaginably hostile Wastelands, and populated it with beasts, horrors, and monsters.
Anjet of Cenn Caerwaith
It is said that the bite of a Manna Mosquito can turn someone with no magical power into a spellcaster, but few are willing to pay the price for such power.
With it’s ability to electrocute you with a magical bolt from it’s nose, mess with a Wandfish and you may well end up sleeping with the fishes.
Exotic birds for any game
Cooked or raw, they taste like camel urine. Unfortunately they are full of water and easy to catch. I’m tired of eating these sand-fish
Anjet of the Cenn Caerwaith
Beware the lords of the sky, in the wastelands even the would-be dragons give them a wide berth
Anjet of Cenn Caerwaith
These pale mutations may have once been children, or perhaps monkeys, now all that remain of their former origins is the humanoid shape of their bodies, all else having been twisted into a gross mockery of life…
In the darkness you notice a point of light erupt no bigger than a candle, quickly followed by several dozen more and a soft metallic sound, like a man at the dinner table sharpening his knife against a fork.
A swarm of what appears to be small gray chips of concrete leap and skitter across the ground from the shadows of the ruins towards you…
You hear a loud electronic buzzing, almost as if a runaway lawn mower mated to a taser gun is rampaging through the slimy cattails and weeds towards you before a swarm of huge flies erupt from the low scrub in front of you, electricity dancing between their mandibles.
The River Dragons are a beautiful, sleek race. Their irridescent scales are soft and almost invisible under a fast-racing current. As long as a long riverboat, they propel themselves upstream with occasional flaps of their powerful wings.
"When the dolphins and whales propel themselves into the air, it is a great spectacle and joy to watch. When the Salwar launch themselves, it is a terror."
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.