A beast made of writing; a strange, sad, and beautiful being that haunts the libraries and universities of the Sacred World
Forget the rickety, fragile skeletons. Remove all thoughts of the limping, weak zombies. Shrug off thoughts of blood-dependant vampires. Whereas the former are reflections of necromatic magic, the Mogrolyth is a creation derived from the pure essence of unholy power - namely pain.
For the coddling of the weak and mewling shall one day be the Downfall of All Races!
—Morkoel Rasher, denouncing Moleskin in verse.
“The last thing we ever saw was its inky tail as it swept under the door. I fear the scions of Durnthar have taken yet another piece of us.” - Gould Maran, Keeper of the Throne Seal
Many magical items adventurers seek out help them carry more loot, keep themselves fed and healthy, or just simply hack the bad guys to itty bitty bits. This one lets their loot carry itself.
Undead are, simply put, among the most horrific things one can think of. Can you imagine anything more frightening than a being which is dead and yet still walks? Can you imagine the horror of being faced by the hollow shell of being, a hollow shell which must feed?
Several arson attacks, and two deaths later, as the Mayor retreated from the ashy figure before him and his curtains went up in flame, he decided that burning the Bishop had been a very bad idea.
Sing to me and I shall write, on lilies, poetry of the night.
Created as a weapon by the ancient sorceror-primotologists of the Iron Triangle Nation, the Cutsman still stalks the underhalls of the city of Mehxaiyul, a spectre of blood and blades.
Crawling among the garbage and offal, the detritus of what men call civilization, the myrie bugs claim their own small domains. They eat, and breed, and wait…
Despair! Despair! The Dread Crow’s Glare!
God forbid that I should go to any Heaven where there are no horses.
- R. B. Cunninghame-Graham
Dont mind him, he’s just a rag man
Clochardshire resident, common quote
These ghastly beings are corrupted to do the bidding of Hosok, The Hand That Sees
A response to Dragonlordmax's Freetext Friday. Specifically, Exotic Mounts.
Thanks to axlerowes for help fleshing out the details and helping me tie it in further with the rest of the setting.
Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Me thinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.”
Think of any bizzare life-form, WHATEVER life-form that lives a not-so-standard way. Not the way common sense would expect it. Make it in some way logical or not, just forget the boring everyday logic.
All too often, a new magical creature, or plant is not seen with wonder or awe, but rather a keen eye for exploitation. In the often violent and brutal realm of role-playing, the wonders of nature are often overlooked, and never realized. I though I would start this thread to see if anyone else had any ideas along these lines. With that being said, may I present…
In lakes throughout the East, these lake squid are as plentiful as fish.
Also going by the names ‘Mageweed’, ‘Sorceror’s Moss’ and ‘Puff-Wizard’, these tiny little shoots can have a variety of uses to the canny alchemist.
According to the Journals of Lord Goidol, the people of the Southern Cities wear heavy coats all the year round, despite the stifling tropical heat. They claim that to do otherwise angers the gods, and it is true that visitors who refuse to don the local garb are often struck down with a paralytic fever.