Shirion may have been a human once. That time is long past. Now, it is an ever-shifting being, its form lost to time.
Brendan stared at the creature in the pale moonlight, transfixed by the silvery petals that glistened beneath that perfect purity. It was not until his final breath that he gathered his wits enough to scream after the thing had descended on him, all muscle and thorns and hard, barklike skin. It was too impossible, even the crimson blossoms that shone in the light of the moon.
Fiendish of appearance, beware these black kine…
An offshoot of humanity arises from its underground home due to a massive civil war and other ancient fueds…
The current state of the mythical elder race who once ruled the world known as the Sorcen.
[Pariah] 4:20 pm: OMFG!!! It’s a gremil swarm.
Twisted and cave-filled are many of the coastlines of Acqua, scoured by the mighty waves and sucking currants and tides. If you are not careful when approaching one of these caves, you might well not be able to dodge in time as one or more spines spring out at you.
“Careful where you step. There’re grassbiters ‘round here.”
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 screeching and squealing sound pierced our skull like a hot poker edging at the back of our mind and taking over any free thought. We knew what it was that was coming for us and could run no more, trapped like a mouse in a maze we frantically ran in circles trying to get away from the inevitable. It towered over us like a frozen monster . . . wait . . . it was. It ran its limbs against its own body knowing what the sound did to us. We cried in agony and horror; in pain physically and mentally. Knowing the fate that would befall us we cried in tight balls on the floor . . . the sound . . . it stopped. I looked up to see it walking away, its shoulders heaving. If I didn't know better I would think it was laughing at me for my fear of it. I'll never know for sure, I hope against all hope that I never will.
- Srowley, adventurer and historian
The RJD2 series virus, affectionately known as The Red Scribble, is the scourge of cyberspace.
Eww…take a look at that nasty beast!
Having spent many years facing the Swollen Shadow and it’s lieutenants, the dwarven resistance fighter Vars is one of the few people who could be considered an authoritative source on the most active and malevolent of the Shadow’s Minions, the Haints.
Those who hunt by night will tell you that the wildest, most vicious of all animals is the tiny shrew.
The shrew feeds only by the dark of night. He must eat his own body weight every few hours or stave to death. The ravenous shrew eats everything, bones, flesh, marrow… everything.
Intro from Attack of the Killer Shrews 1959
Too many are the spirits of the Spirit World, these are only a few better known types.
And Sama decreed a fitting punishment for the liars and the braggarts, to walk the earth for all eternity without their ears or their mouth.
Featured creatures of the Swollen Shadow Codex.
The toxic lands of the Wastes should support no life. Here the land is slowly corrosive to the touch, causing illness with prolonged contact. The bubbling sulfur and ectomass pools are especially lovely, if you have the right aesthetic. The soil is soft and any heavy object slowly sinks. Other than a few migrant birds and some exotic small insects, The Wastes support only one native lifeform - The Verners - Exerpt from the often wrong but very popular Kalemandi’s Beasts of Lore and World.
There! Did you see it that time? I swear someone is following us. I keep seeing torchlight through the damn trees. I'm telling you, something is following us.
Thom, your either seeing things or drinking to much. There is no one following us. See look . . . wait, they look . . . they look like spiders but they are on fire!
- Last words of Micha, Traveller and Explorer.
The hiss of a drakulia fills the night air, and your blood runs cold. You know that you are about to die, and there is probably nothing you can do about it.
Pick up a pathology/microbiology book, and add the diseases/syndroms to your game. Your players will freak out.
Coughed at? Diphteria. or tuberculosis?
Drunk from a muddy stream? Or just walked through? Well, let us introduce you to schistosomiasis...
Hit by a stream of energy? Too moch mana is ust like too much radioactivity - perhaps all mages could develop cancer early if too powerful...