“Since the vile Plante’s Deceased Hoste is not technically a Part of its Anatomy, any attemptes to Kill the Monster using regular methods is likely to prove Futile, especially that of Beheading the Creature. It seems to regarde its Head as a most Unnecessary part of its Composition, and thus as it moves its Head exhibits a frightening lacke of Expression, and lolls in a way most Unpleasant to observe.”
Some years ago a dark cult was founded in the Forecastle area of Hahvrensburg. The cultists were defeated by a band of heroes. A month after the heroes left the city and went on about their business, something massive came out of the earth.
Simultaneously feared and desired by mages, Cool blue reasons are the collections of negative energy and the absence of emotion. A Reason appears as a tapering worm of translucent blue-black color, nearing one foot in length at the time of creation, though through their feeding on emotion can grow to be miles long.
The Cynocephali are those wretched beings who are cursed to walk the earth after death for the betrayal of those most dear to them. The gods look upon such traitors with terrible anger, and as such, those who do nothing to remedy their betrayal or offset the sin are doomed to an eternal unlife, bearing the head of a dog.
Seemingly lit from within, autumn foliage blazes with color in the late-afternoon sun. Yet, is is spring.
Trodways Known by Ericus Huntcrafter pub 1185 p. 245
Brutish masters of the Highlands, the grey-skinned, wolf-riding men of the Flinthill Clan are famed for their ferocity and their savagery.
The Sark-Hound is a basic form of Sark which is created for a very specific purpose, to wit, the hunting and killing of the necromancer’s enemies (in Centas, the place of the banal zombie is taken by these creatures).
Many of the Undead face this terrible fate for mistakes of their own. Dark sins, or conscience heavy for the criminal deeds they have commited, they cannot pass on and linger in this world. But some do not deserve this curse…
There are some men who treat their wives the way they would chattel,that is,with utter control and domination,regarding their spouses not as independent beings entitled to their free will,but as mere objects of theirs,subject to the will of their lords. Such is the nature of those doomed to become the Possessive Ones,upon their death.
They come in the night, and they take things. Nothing neccesary. Maybe they’ll take some candle wax, mabe a few sticks, a curtain, anything. But guard all your possesions boy, because if you don’t, they’ll come down on you like a hellbeast in one of their damned machines.
The Poison Eaters Tribe dwells deep in the jungle glades of the Ushaika, in the lowest reaches of the undergrowth where no sunlight pierces through the leaves, and where the marshy ground wells up with tea-colored water at the lightest step.
Below the surface of the Earth, dwelling in darkness and forgotten catacombs, the goat-headed Ghouls, dark spirits of murder, feast on the dead. Ghouls dwell in old, forgotten places, luring others down into the grasping claws of their evil tribes.
The Crawling Ghosts (from Parsic “yabuj”, “it crawls”) are the loathsome, disturbing ghosts of those who die lonely and rejected, shut-ins and the forgotten.
A Hungry Ghost is born when the lower soul (the animal soul of the body, containing physical urges and violences) becomes angered and, rather than descending to the Underworld, lashes out against the living, which, in its instinctive state and having dulled senses, it percieves as enemies who have “wronged” it.
The Azhag (‘ah-ZHAHG’; from Old West-Carmanian azadg, meaning watchman, sentry), called Tomb Guardians or Demon Shadows, are the terrible Undead guardians of the tombs of the Ancient Ones.
Hiding deep within catacombs of the ancients, in low, deep alcoves where they lie, spider-like, awaiting the taste of fresh blood, there are the hideous Torlakia, dark beings who once lived and are now, fearfully, undead.
Undead are, simply put, among the most horrific things one can think of. Can you imagine anything more frightening than a being which is dead and yet still walks? Can you imagine the horror of being faced by the hollow shell of being, a hollow shell which must feed?
They are the menace of the borderlands, travelling with their herds paths they used for millenia, and razing any signs of civilization in the process. When the winter is especially harsh or the summer unusually dry, they descend upon the heartlands of kingdoms like a plague, more a natural disaster than an enemy.
The Kythrythe are a different kind of people. Given their worship of the Insect God Kythrellemen, they are more than just Humans. These people, except for their eyes, will be normal people at first glance. Some might be quite big or small or graceful, but they look like people. At second glance you will notice their small antena peeking out from their hair. Every now and again, you will see one that has been "blessed" by the God and granted "Marks of the God", insect like physical abilities.
On Zetacron, the nature goddess Gaia did not create the elves, but wished to claim them as Her own (it seemed fitting to her, somehow, that elves should be bound to Nature). Thus, she used her divine powers to create a bond between Herself and the elves.
The players see a small shrine to the local nature deity just of the trail. Before they even approach it, they can smell the foul stench of rotting meat. If they inspect the shrine, they can see it has been desecrated by rotting organs in the last few days. There is no mistaking it for an obscure ritual, the organs are thrown everywhere, not left in specific places as in sacrifice.
If the players try to clean the shrine, they will soon find it has been boobytrapped to fling sharp splinters covered in the rotting gore in every direction. While only doing a few points of damage, they injured players will likely take sick soon unless they get medical attention.