Emma Verney is the black sheep of the rich and noble Verney family because of her strange liking of the Orc tribes of the wastelands.Such a liking may well have got her into deep trouble with the Orcs and her fellow humans alike.
Saddah, the patron of games. A mysterious woman you might see around games of luck, undoubtly another fan… or an evil spirit that will take the most driven gambler with her.
On the surface, Sir Edmund Verney is a very good man, deeply loved by most citizens of Karnivhal. He is a war hero, knighted on the battlefield,a curer of diseases, and one of those who purged the country of evil mages. However, he himself has a deeply hidden secret life, that he wants very much to keep hidden by any means nesscessary…
“Beep Click, Identify yourself or be removed.”
Not strong of body, and questionable of mind, she has a kind heart and one special talent. She is not a healer of wounds, or even of people, she heals the souls of creatures. She feels sympathy for even the most hideous and terrible of creatures, and when her tears for them fall upon them, their hearts are moved and their evil ways ended(for a little while at least).
“That was the second lynching this month. And last week they haven beaten some old sod that could barely crawl home.”
“Well, he was a drinker and bad to his wife, sir. It is really hard work they do, and not for much pay. But sir, we are doing wonderfully, all is going as planned and better!”
“Yes, the cathedral could be built months before expected, if we can keep up this speed. You are all doing great work, I’ll be sure to inform the Patriarch. Just take care no accidents happen anymore.”
This bundle of beautiful sparkling delight conceals a far darker side…
A socially inept and ugly human monk, with a smattering of arcane skills, on a quest of vengeance to find his mentor’s killers.
When did it all start? He would never know for sure, although he traces it, like a finger on a map following the broad river back to the invisible thread of the beginnings, to one evening early winter.
(Name translates directly from ancient Egyptian as: Strong Protector, the Hidden One.) A mysterious shaman appearing without regard to wheres and whens, upon the divine bidding of other Realms. An entity of legend, belonging to a legendary and ancient sect.
Clef was a regular gnome, just like all of the other gnomes. It just happened that his area of interest was not so agreeable to the other gnomes…
Martin Eltsin hated alcohol, and felt he had a very good reason to do so.He had seen it cause a lot of harm on the Pier Point streets…
It was rumoured that John Chard had made a deal with a demon, but perhaps it was mere idle rumour and speculation.Or maybe not…
Most see the hunch-backed girl with the black hair, and give her a few copper pieces out of pity or mercy. These she spares from her nightly rooftop hauntings, as her hunch holds a darker secret than a deformed spine.
All know that Elves cannot die, and that Men do. All know that Men go unto the Underworld upon their death, and that the Elves retire unto the Spiritual Elysium. Yet in the Great Scheme, where goes the one with one foot in the Underworld, and one foot in the Realm of Spirit?
An unusual woman, with twelve debts she can never repay.
He is a very powerful mage for his age at 26. He has led a very normal life, well at least as normal as you can get with a mage.
Honor, ethics, morality, civilization, these are mere trappings. Playthings that people use to hide from the world. They’ve all forgotten. No sword is untried by fire, and so it is with man.
I am the fire that will test man.
Once trod upon, now brightly shines, a mage fed by what to death declines…
izkandar is an Ifrit, a fire elemtal of mideastern lore. he would be at home in a desert or asian steppe setting.
By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?