The Broan, an enigmatic, amphibious species of unknown origin, that lives in the salt-water marshes to the east of Locastus.
The various intelligent species that inhabit Locastus, City of Mirrors.
Perhaps one of the oldest of the humanoid races, the Pelamids are a sort of missing link between terrestrial humans and aquatic merfolk.
Predator, nightstalker, brother to beasts, call me a monster long enough brother and I very well might become one.
Jaurmes, Augrune woodcutter
The giants of the Thunderheads
Few even know of the existence of the DarnunÃƒÂ©.
Humanity is as varied as the stars themselves.
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.
Every Court needs its servants…
"The walls moved!" Krunis exclaimed. This he was sure of it this time.
"Of course they did. They are trying to accommodate the additional room needed for tonight." Xarn returned matter-of-factly.
Living stones are tuned to one master to do his bidding.
"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.
The Others are a magical, elder race, that occasionally interact with Humanity.
Captain, I see two dozen general displacement ships just coming into sensor range outside the system. There is no warp signature sir.
How Odd. Helmsman lay in an intercept course and let us investigate.
Beware these shrub-sized gaurdians of the forest.
The D’athri took to space in such a way to make Terrans look "gun shy". They can be found in small numbers in and around every space port in Known Space.
Representing a primal force of nature which wants to strangle and slay all humanity, to bury their works beneath the roots of trees and their bodies as fertilizer.
Their wyrm tainted blood and slaver ways mark them as not Human. These are the Evil of the Old World. They are Dylori.
The Ky’iish are greatly advanced in the arts of magic and created many strange and powerful materials and items. Some of their weapons were the most formidible artifacts found on Neyathis, dwarfing both physically and magically virtually all the works of man.
Of fire, but not elementals. Short-lived, yet intelligent. Bound to this world they are, more than most of its mortal inhabitants.
The PCs are making their way from village to village across a rural hinterland, when they spot a weird sign along a farmstead's fence, with an arrow pointing to the actual farmstead.
"CRAZY DANCING HOES!!"
If they investigate, a rather sedate local farmer, explains to them that for a mere two coppers, they can witness the show for themselves.
The show involves six ordinary, animated hoes "dancing" on a makeshift stage, as the farmer accompanies them by slapping his thighs to keep the beat, and playing on his flute.
If asked how the trick is accomplished the farmer demurs, not wanting to share his "secret".
"If you can get Old Man Purkiss to tell you how he gets his cows to spout poetry, I'll tell you how I make my hoes dance."
In reality, this minor encounter can lead to the PCs discovering that some localized, magical effect is active in the area. All kinds weird phenomena seem to occur in these parts.
Perhaps the PCs have finally found the ley-line of mana energy that they have been searching for! The party's wizard gets excited.