"Aye, 'dis here is yer problem, squire. Yer gone and got yerself a Cog Devil infestation in the ol' gear box, haven't ya? Look at the little bugger squirm, eh? Nah, dont be embarrassed, squire. It's better than lice on yer privates, innit? Coz, they're harder to get rid of, they are. And a lot more expensive too.."
Istherm Mild (esq.), licensed steam engine mechanic, overheard advicing one of his customers…
In the deep of night, even the most jaded of criminals will look over their shoulders for the telltale scarlet glow of the steamwalkers.
The grinding of gears in the dead of night is a precursor of an unforgiving danger. Survivors remember little, save the smell of metal and death.
A tool-using monkey of great dexterity.
The dead, imbued with the divine essence of magic, walk again, ever hungry for the missing spark of a living soul.
Loathsome creatures born of magic gone hideously awry, the trolls of Kuramen are little more than ever-hungry masses of cancerous tissue.
Though each drone possesses little intelligence of its own, together, they are the Kth’k'k’kt, who span the stars.
‘‘I tell you, if you seek to cross the dunes of the great desert alone, you will never return. Vile fiends dwell there, evil monsters that delight in feasting upon the flesh of men. I fear that if you persist in your foolish quest, you like the others before you, will end your days as a feast for these foul denizens of the desert’‘.
Stone peckers, foul-tempered beasts, better suited for cooking and mattresses than being allowed to breed
Anjet of Cenn Caerwaith
"Things were better in the old days," said the mage, "when you could watch the beautiful spellbook soaring on the air currants high above the geysers, and it would come to you to be fed. But they drove it into hiding, they did."
Fluffy headed plant things with an equally fluffy headed personality
A cunning and vicious predator, prized for it’s pelt and feared for it’s poisonous bite
Anjet of Cenn Caerwaith
Feared throughout the southern seas, the Jurokang are a deadly menace to any that intrude into their domain.
The grapes of sorrow
The remnent of a much older time, the Methranar, the Icerender, the Lurker, is a figure prominant in the Megamoth Hunter’s legends.
"Is it just me, or is this cave moving?"
- Obin the Spelunker’s last words
..and from the heaps of the fallen burst a nightmarish creature, sinuous death, like a snake with legs, the dying fires of the battlefields reflecting in its glittering scales. Mounted on its back, in dark, light-absorbing armour and wielding a lightning-wreathed lance, sat a monstrous knight, the horns on his helmet marking him as a Knight of the Locastrian Heron Guard.
He and his mount fell on me and my unit and from that encounter; I was the only survivor….
Excerpt from A SoldierÃ‚Â´s Tale by Sgt. Amonar Trask (ret) of the Home Guard of Akral Tel
"Gak! Cough! I just swallowed a bug."
These lovely people had the unfortunate luck of living adjacent to a zenophobic bug race and a species that would defend their colonies
Synthetic Bioforms: (Syns, Synths, SBF): The use of synthetic people helps alleviate the manpower shortage and most real peoples’ dislike for manual labor. They are also cheaper, easier to utilize, and easier to maintain than robots in most situations. Encyclopedia Galactica 2453ed
The third son of a candle-maker, and secretly a spy, Tsiao Fong Wei betrayed his family, clan, and town to the merciless Qongg Dynasty, causing the deaths of his own family members. He survived to an old age hiding out in the country side and keeping a low profile. One day however, the “Paper Knife” finally found Tsiao Fong Wei , and exacted his revenge on behalf of the folk, dead and tortured.
After a furious struggle, the “Paper Knife” plunged twin burning candles into the eyes of the traitorous old man and laughed, as Tsiao Fong Wei howled in dismay and pain. Some say Tsiao Fong Wei died that day. Others say that the old man somehow escaped despite his sudden anguish and utter blindness.
The truth is lost to time.
But to this day the children of the Red-Ridge County towns and villages are told by their parents to always beware twin lights in the darkness and to never venture into the woods at night, and to keep an ear open for the Groaning Ghost, for somewhere out there Tsiao Fong Wei the Traitor, now a vengeful spirit, stumbles about the darkness moaning and wailing, candles still sticking forth from out of his otherwise empty eye sockets. And though the candles plunged into his eyes all those years ago were a’flame going in, now the wax protuberances are somehow lit from within and burn without, and two flickering lights in the darkness, always portend his coming.