A legendary warrior of Ironspirit, and patron hero of the desperate stand.
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.
Never a more petty and larcenous trio will there be found.
Ibn Al-Fadyn is no ordinary weaver of tales, but instead tells tales of infromation and observation.
The brilliant Doctor Ghanek brought peace, prosperity and relief from starvation and disease to her people. But to what lengths was she willing to go for it?
A villain with a taste for living art.
No, no. This hasnt been done correctly. Move aside imbecile…
My Sword is yours, milord…
Send in the clowns.
The undisputed head of the Trinity, and the story of Falhath’s oldest folk hero.
Clad in a rainment of silver scale and chain armor, Ixia is the second member of the Trinity
Creator of the Black Book, the primogen tome of necromancy, few names are as feared or reviled as that of Mastere.
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.
The sun has set upon the Kingdoms of Men, may night have mercy on us…
Opening Quote of the Book of the Black Rose
Here are the thirty Rangers of the Bushland National Park-the good the bad, the clean and the dirty.
Herein are listed 30 Barkeeps, Bartenders, or proprietary owners of the drinking and sleeping establishments so frequented by adventurers and their loyal henchmen.
A little snug for me, but you…a perfect fit.
‘‘A thousand of the vile things we set alight, crying aloud the prayers of the Holy Redeemer as the demonic abombinations screamed in a chorus of almost human agony, utterly helpless against the flames that consumed their monstrous and deformed bodies. Never again will another human grace the banquet of these accursed fiends. But it pleases me even more to say that the gold which is so abundant in this heathen land, is now the sole propety of a nation blessed by the One God. No more will these repellent false deities lay claim to that which we have wrested from their worshippers’‘. -Corand Rogad, Conquerer of Tahutol
It’s not a weapon that kills people, it are the poeple who do so…
If only the one wording such comment knew better!
Clad in black armor, perched atop a black destrier, Ourange is the image of the mercenary-lord…
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...