You can hear the song from miles away. The song is enchanting in a mild way. Even the plants sing this haunting tune all day. This gives you fair warning to be ready to dance to a different tune. You are leaving your country and entering theirs.
The deadly legacy of a vindictive demon, Shugrat’s lust is to be feared by those who dread to sin..
Bringing more fantastic elements to the old classic.
The Dark Kind came to the world as conquerors. They failed. Now they are odd neighbors.
Burninating the countryside,
Burninating the peasants
Burninating all the peoples
And their thatched-roof COTTAGES!
TROGDOR!
Gnomes, fascinated with magic, tried to find a way to safely access it, and instead wound up addicted in the deadliest way.
Clarence was singing in harmony as his kind is wont to do. Their singing reinforced the "song of existance". It was a somewhat important job, even though only a handful were needed rather than the hundreds that did so. He and others near him noticed the pin prick discordence in the weave of melody that was the material realm. Those dark alien notes rose up. The Angel Mind touch the Divine and followed the new sub melody. Humans would call it a plan. Angels dove to the material realm and, of course, if any world was going to be causing problems, it had to be Earth. Oh well, at least Clarence would know his way around.
Alive with emotion -
Constantly in motion -
With inner voice, ‘hind innocent face -
a cunning mind -
Metal fairies in the depths of space?
Also known as Vampires.
These are the various races of humans in Locastus, City of Mirrors.
Predator, nightstalker, brother to beasts, call me a monster long enough brother and I very well might become one.
Jaurmes, Augrune woodcutter
There are different sorts of demons in the world. Some are indistiguishable from normal people. Some are a little different, but pass initial scrutiny. And some are much more monstrous.
"That book?" sighed the librarian. "That one is hard to find. The priests say it is heretical. But," he continued more quietly "word is they have a few copies, and study them very carefully. That even they consider it true."
A reptilian race of space-travelers whose addiction to a drug they need for survival leads them to a less than stellar reputation.
Their wyrm tainted blood and slaver ways mark them as not Human. These are the Evil of the Old World. They are Dylori.
Of fire, but not elementals. Short-lived, yet intelligent. Bound to this world they are, more than most of its mortal inhabitants.
These creatures are foul things that prey on the weakness of loss. Their home society, and indeed, their home, in completely unknown, as all that have been found have been killed to out standards.
New Submissions
These lovely people had the unfortunate luck of living adjacent to a zenophobic bug race and a species that would defend their colonies