The Harakan have been created with only one purpose in mind. They hunt the despised slaves of the Empire
This just in from the BBC. It seems a number of medieval archers and swordsmen have stopped a Grinch Attack in Nottingham mall. We take you live to....
A.k.a. Belcher, Fleshbag, Mr. Soupy, Spitter, or a Walking Cauldron
Support for your zombie legions...
It may be wondered why packs of wolves, Giant Spiders and other such animals would attack PCs, when said PCs are normally armed to the teeth with deadly weapons and spells. Surely it would make more sense to attack weaker prey? Sometimes it is because the PCs are threatening the animal's territory or cubs or egg sac. Sometimes the animals may be crazed with hunger. Or it may be because the animals have become infected by Atissi worms.
Have you noticed that The Elves all belong to the same culture, all speak the same langauge, and all seem to be equally good at everything? I have a theory about that.
Descended from humanity, the orcs of Kuramen are a far cry from the bloodthirsty savages of many other worlds.
Flame fowl, brightest red chickens you will ever see, nice feathers for fletching arrows, but I'd pass on the omlet.
More subtle than artillery, Mul'Tals, the siege-vine of the Kel'Regar, is more than capable of reducing the strongest of defenses to rubble, growing, twisting, and devouring its way through them.
"For days, we've heard nothing but cricketsong, from the coming of dust to an hour past dawn. Nothing he happened, but I'm sure something will."
last journal entry, Traggion the Explorer
Is not disease the rule of existence? There is not a lily pad floating on the river but has been riddled by insects? -Henry David Thoreau
When a mission becomes something more.
The Kir’bret’rasach is the Kel’Regar answer to the question of the main battle tank. More than one foe has been caught unaware by its massive strength and tearing claws.
have made thee as no other. All the treasures of the earth shall lie between thy eyes. Thou shalt cast thy enemies between thy hooves, but thou shalt carry my friends upon they back. Thy saddle shall be the seat of prayers to me. And thou fly without any wings, and conquer without any sword.
Undead abominations born of the Light, the glow of the Accursed’s warped flesh strikes terror into those who behold it.
Beware this wizardly cadaver! His spells might not kill you, but you will wish they had…
"Oh, there goes another make-believe
Therianthropes? Lycanthropes? Animorphs? Homo-Zoological-Hybrid-Sapiens? Manimals? Take your pick.
Fire is the purifier, let it cleanse the taint from the flesh of the mutant
Prelate Deacon Delhomme
The PCs have travelled long and far. As nightfall approaches a mighty storm is unleashed. Luckily there is a lush wood nearby the path.
A good shelter for the rage of the unnamed weather gods it seams at first. As the PCs enter under the roof of this dense wood, they are welcomed by only a few drops wich is allowed trough the thick forest crown. A fire is offcourse required to warm the weary bones of the travellers. As one of the party is set to the task of collecting firewood the others settle down at a suitable location. But alas, they did not know the perils of this forest. But it seems clear to the rest of the party that something ill is at work as the woodcutters scream echo from afar.