Gahrafahas is Bastard Demonspeak and is derived from ghrazh’fualzh’s, true DemonSpeak for ‘‘those who come from the Skies’’ or ‘‘the Sky Ones.’’
Hideous creatures, they stand motionless and filled with intense sorrow at their existence.
Buzurivambavas is Bastard Demonspeak, and comes from the true Demonspeak bzhuu’vhambv’s, which means “carrying and crawling one”, or “one that carries and crawls”. They are a subtle kind of demon, and do not exhibit the terrible rage and bloodthirst of some other demons.
New and different types of infernal fiends. Give all the demons, devils and other evil creatures you can imagine.
In fear, the families fled from the paths into the darkest lands of their despair. When the darkness changed to gray, they returned to the world with new hope.
How empty are their bellies that already so much man and horse flesh cannot fill them?
Excerpt from the Lex Predatoris
The wizard Wodan the Red craves power and will perform almost any atrocity to reach his goals. Here are some of the many minions bred for such a dark purpose…
And the Immortal Spirit shall unleash his wrath to strike down the maloveant forces that would seek to oppose the Chosen sons of Geshua..
-Fifth Verse from The Gospel Of Prophecies
Often the largest of the terrestrial predators, the bear is often overlooked in favor of more flashy and glamourous monsters.
Beware the old woman clutching at the folds of her clothing..
T’would take 30 hounds and a brace of knights to hunt a questing beast…
The symbiosis of plants and animal has always been present, but long ago a special bond was formed to make the survival of plants coincide with the survival of their caretakers.
These beautiful women first steal your heart, then your mind, then your soul…
Gaze into her lovely eyes and and revel in your throes of passion as your flesh enters a most pleasurable state of union with hers..
Enjoy it well, for what comes after will not be as pleasant..
‘‘I am so very sorry to interupt your grand schemes for seizing control of the nether-realm, but I am afraid that my master, the Lord of the Desolate Shore, has raised some serious objections..’’
Kazarad the lich watched his minons strip the slain adventurers of their gear, and he being the meticulous type, the gear was sorted into piles. One of larger piles was a heap of iron spikes. "Why do they all carry those damn things? What am _I_ supposed to with all of those? "
Then a moment of inspiration stuck him…..
Behold, the Eldest.
Not quite a race of its own, not quite the mortals they are so close to.
The current state of the mythical elder race who once ruled the world known as the Sorcen.
These are an Old Peoples, the original occupants of Daletal. They have been displaced by the Humans into the back corners of The Six Lands and the Badlands. For generations they waited for a sign so they could take their revenge against the Humans. The Great One came and led them. They swarmed across The Six Lands and ruled! Then The Fall occured. Their numbers have been greatly reduced since the time of their vengence, the Time of Merideth. They have returned to their back corners of The Six Lands. They wait for the Return of the Great One.
The old clock tower stands tall, but the bulk of the uppermost storey is crumbling and unsafe, with gaping cracks in the walls. The metal struts and girders supporting the great bronze bells are still intact, though, and the bells survive. The grotesque gargoyles and arabesques which decorated the original design have either fallen into the street (once or twice a year more bricks fall from the tower, prompting calls for its demolition) or have been defaced, but the main doors to the clock tower are still intact and show signs of being kept in working order. This is the home of The Captains, clad in raggedy clothes, with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor. They live to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wims ghost keeps the core of a childs innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders. They are a group of street children who live in the clock tower. Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they’re all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.