The restless shade of a terrible demon of an age long since dust.
The mage of Time, the former master of the enuch wizard Volomain walks the lands once again, a small sun circling the vessel known as a lifeform.
There are some people who just lay down and die if someone hurts them. Some people forgive those who hurt him. And some… well, some decide to punish the people who hurt them. Me? Not even death can stop me from having my revenge. Not my death, not his death. They’ll all pay.
An outcaste goblin with a sadistic streak and a secret talent
Squinzerephtoritzpik, aka Squints, is a simple small time scumbag informant who happens to be from a tribe of goblins with a unique body modification tradition…
Blessed Yandrick, spare my herd from the Hoof Rot, and let the thieves and bandits seek elsewhere! Let my swine grow fat and strong, that they might be sold at market, so my children will have enough food this winter!
Stonedeath is a goblin assassin, but much more than that. His new form allows him to scale walls, fight with uncanny agility, and above all that; he has a hatred for adventurers.
Renik Kavios is the leader of the dockworkers’ union. He is also a smuggler for stolen goods and illegal contraband. Through his power, he has the leaders of a city locked under his control.
The body is a temporary host for a transcendental creature, though most of these creatures fail to transcend before the death of the host. I shall not fail.
The Unification War was a travesty, an act of naked fascism against frontier worlds so diverse and destitute that their submission was not worth the cost in lives, material, and hostility garnered. We, gentlemen, have created generations of enemies.
L. C. Vallandigham
Mercenary. Hacker. Charm school graduate. Teddy bear collector. Raver. Troll.
30 Mostly Maddening Merchants
“You must seek the counsel of the oracle Edros.”
“Do we *have* to?”
Come! Hear Uncle Jehan's band, by the river's side...
With enough will, determination, and intelligence, we will remake the world in our image.
Standing at the prow of the ship, Ashala rejoiced at the strong winds catching her midnight-black hair - flapping it like a pennant. The dark clouds ahead would have filled other seafarers with dread. Not Ashala. The dark clouds and wicked winds were an invitation, a challenge.
"Steady as she goes!" she shouted over her shoulder to the shipmaster, "To the Eye!"
The Patron Saint of Beverages, Hang-Overs, Regrets
Blessed be are those wed beneath apple tree
Common Falk Saying, the Midlands
Mercenaries and bounty hunters? We don’t need the help of scum like that.
30 Guards, who in peacetime patrol the Palace and in wartime are the Royal Bodyguards and the King’s last defence.