"They come with the mist, and fight to protect us. Protecting their people meant so much to them that they kept fighting for us after they fell. Count yourselves blessed that the Company of Stars watches over us."
- Mylnes, Ethalani Elder
Evil gives birth to many foul creatures, of these creatures the Negasek have emerged from a womb of darkness and terror. These powerful insect-like creatures radiate the dark force that gave birth to them, born of sheer negative energy, nearly dripping with the foulness of their diabolic nature.
A large predatory mammal that can run or fight on two legs, not requiring sleep these demons were brought onto the world to create killers, in the world of werewolves these could be considered alpha males.
God forbid that I should go to any Heaven where there are no horses.
- R. B. Cunninghame-Graham
A tiny life-form not consciously malignant but nevertheless to be careful of…it could get you into a lot of trouble!
Bursting with an incredible, terrible complexity, the Oraki are a powerful breed of mechanoids, once that blurs the line between machine and man from the other direction.
Standing atop the parched hill and triumphantly displaying their gory trophies , the berserker s begin to shriek aloud their terrible, keening war-cries, confident that the coming battle will belong to them as the enemy flees before their frenzied onslaught, all its discipline and training forgotten in the face of a foe that harbors no fear at all for any enemy born of humanity.
Just as the red mist clouding their eyes begins to fill their minds with fantasies of mass slaughter, a mass of shadowy figures suddenly materialises out of the darkness, charging towards the berserkers with long, loping strides that lend them speed that is at once awesome and terrifying to witness, even to the crazed minds of these onlookers.
As a heavy,furry shape hurtles into the the commander, he falls to the ground, his throat ripped out by the savage fangs of his assailant. As his life ebbs away from him in the rapidly expanding jet of blood gushing from his ripped arteries, savage growls become the lullaby lulling him into the never-ending slumber of death.
A great supernatural serpant - Wise yet mercurial
“They just keep coming. You cut one down, two more are right behind it. We can’t win, they just keep coming…”
- Unnamed soldier, overheard at the battle of Caele Aran
“Why should we send our young men off to die when we can manufacture the War Walkers for the same purpose?”
- War-Theurge Ceylon of the Fourth Dynasty Army
I would be willing, yes glad, to see a battle every day during my life.
George Armstrong Custer
The Pocket Ironbones, whilst not quite the war machines that they were intended to be, have been useful in the service of Banhosea all the same.
MUL-FS550 Fire Support Robot
Variant of Mobile U Logistic Robot
RR80 Corpsman(TM) - Battlefield Casualty Recovery Robot
“I… I only wished to help. But… I had nothing to give… save me… and this… unclean thing took advantage of it. And now I have given birth to another of the creatures. I cannot take care of it. My family would… I just can’t.
May gods have mercy with it.”
The peasant girl puts the little bundle to the convent’s door, rings the bell, and flees.
One of the more unnerving of fungi, “Liche Fungus” has its uses…
A misunderstood and much maligned race, goblinoids are a much more complex and sophisticated people than any human has ever given them credit for.
Beware thy deeds my child, for they may come back to haunt you…
Interesting ideas for interesting mutations.
On his own, a Telgard demon worships the concept of individuum - to be solitary, resourceful, and hardy.
An exquisite steed, midnight black, treading like a dancer, its step so light that it does not scar the ground, its stride so fluent that you could sit in the saddle all day… if you needed one. Its golden eyes shine with intelligence and spirit, and it seems to know your every wish. Ah, who would not want such a fine beast to carry him?
The Mad Pope is a wandering mercenary. He is very well deranged as he considers himself to be the pontiff of the dominant faith. His robes are tattered, his mitre has seen better days and there are surely lice in his long ratty beard. What sets him apart from most addle-pated would be holy men is that he has armor under his robes and carries a large crossbow and several one-handed swords. While many would discout him as just another lunatic, for some reason, he inspires others around him and has demonstrated the ability to lay on hands and heal the wounded.