“You know that saying that man made god? No, of course you don’t. But we didn’t make god. We made the Devil, and god is just a word the frightened cling to, to protect them from their own creation. And you? You are my creation. You are my devil.
Beneath crumbling towers wait
Ishafel’s Horror and Hate
A monster grim and bleak
Go to it if death you seek
A brief summary of the Pessimal Beast as revealed by the Pessimal Manuscript and other anecdotal evidence.
Shirion may have been a human once. That time is long past. Now, it is an ever-shifting being, its form lost to time.
[Pariah] 4:20 pm: OMFG!!! It’s a gremil swarm.
Have a family that is ever at odds with each other? Beware lest the Slurran comes for you..
“Like a great, green god he stalks the savannah!”
Her lips pressed against the soaking flesh of the toad, and Viova’s words entered her mind…
This vast and ancient organism played an important part in the mysterious organization of the cosmos, facilitating the isolated development of inteligent species.
Whenever the earth trembles and shakes, it is the children of the Stinging One furious that the nourishment due to them, has been denied. Honor them unceasingly by sating their hunger, or the earth itself will swallow man-kind whole to feed them’‘.
-Taken from the Arahuain Codex, the most sacred text known to the priests of Ixtili, the Stinging One.
The Flowing Death is one of the most feared monsters in all of Vallermoore’s rivers and ocean, not because of the numbers of people it has killed directly, but because of the semi-starvation it’s visits bring, and because it cannot be seen until it attacks it’s prey.
Bound to serve, unable to leave, many go insane with the duty of a ghoul.
Some years ago a dark cult was founded in the Forecastle area of Hahvrensburg. The cultists were defeated by a band of heroes. A month after the heroes left the city and went on about their business, something massive came out of the earth.
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?
Unseen and striking from suprise, this creature is on its way to becoming a legend.
Awakened by a Curse, fed by the cries and anger of children, this creature now roams the world.
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.
The Eternals are one of the few races who survived the awakening of the Gods and the fall of Prime Creation. They were solitary, but powerful, weavers of essence and were locked in a bloody war with the Other Ones, another race which survived the Gods.
Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.
Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.
It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.