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.
An influential fungus among us!
Although the stink and slime of the swamp is not the perfect habitat for dry plants, within forests of the Mura Katur can be found a respectable variety of lichens, mosses, and ground covers.
From the Black Marsh to the Glowing Swamps of Luminiall, the Mura Katur is home to a great abundance of funghi. Enclosed is a sampling of the many species found in its dank mires and soaked forests.
There was once a tribe of humans that was referred to as “the Wild Ones.” They were humans who were linked to the wild natural world, having animal characteristics.
Deep in the mountains, beyond where the trails end, one can find collossal stairways and long, cliffside roads, massive arched bridges and huge vaulted tunnels, spanning thousands of miles. These roads, though seemingly deserted, are closely watched by their creators, the reclusive and strange Iothun (“yoh-thoon”).
The First Ones, The Kan-Yow, are the only non constructed beings to know the face of their Creator God. They were born as the world was being made. Tutored by their God (Kanchiyonnaho), they developed a perfect society immersed in the magic of the world. The Kan-Yow breathed magic, they are saturated with it, and they are bound to it as the world itself. As the Gods have withdrawn from the Mythic Lands, as the blessing of Time has graced the World, they have become the guardians of The Magic and The World.
The Surash are without doubt,the most distrusted and least liked race in existence.
Pride. Strength. Skill.
These are the values of the Monroi, woven into their very being - for them, battle is not just self-preservation, but a need.
The Daharvati bear a striking resemblance to large kangaroos forced to breed with apes by some deranged scientist.
Towering giants that stand well above 15 feet,these inhabitants of the great grasslands that border the most remote boundaries of the nation of Xhiklus,are an intimidating cross between humanoid and rhino. Their massive heads resemble those of a rhino,but they possess the hunched,hulking lower bodies of a humanoid being,and are endowed with the ability to fashion and use tools with their huge,three fingered hands. Often called ‘‘the Grey Monsters’’ by most people of the Hundreds,they are a force to be reckoned with.
Ru-Men are an old race who dwell throughout the area encompassed by the Hundred, but are most plentiful in their traditional homeland on the Andraverly Mountains on the west coast of the Heavy Sea (northward of Peklichr). They live in small “nests” of 10-20 individuals which generally lie in the mountains or cliffs. Many call them the Crow Men or the Jackdaw Men, while others refer to them as the Black Mountain Bastards.
The Qwards were just another type of goblinoid race -a bit more odd than most- living in the cramped dark spaces. While durrable and intelligent, they could achieve no level of dominance. Upon the advent of Technology, their natural aptitudes came forth. They are born engineers.
Seldom does one see a Dunshar “nude”, as an amorphous masses of jelly. They can animate mud, earth, stone or metal, and use them as a body to shield their fragile self.
In Gaeaioa’s wings, inspiration is physical.
Elves are said to be girly, elves are said to be gay. What does this popular opinion stem from? Hardly their lack of facial hair. Note: Not quite a new take, but something to think about.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.