A hybrid of man and animal, bred to serve and now free to live.
If you think the ones with the axes and beards are bad, wait until you stumble across a nest of feral dwarves…
“Listen to the Wind! Listen to Crackling Fire! Listen to the Groan of the Mountain! Listen to my Voice! Listen and you will See through the Smoke! See the Old Ways of our Forefathers! See the Glory of our Clan! See the Might of our Race!”
—Horn-Of-Plenty, Shaman of the Thorondrim Minotaurs, leading his people in the Khuugrad
Isolated at the southern most portion of Falhath, the Bosques are considered bumpkins and backwater-folk
‘‘From the great home land above, do we desecend to this dark world to civilize long sundered kindred that have relapsed back into the degraded state of barbarism. For it is only on their humble backs that the splendours of noble Zor-Tanis can once again be revived to their former majesty. Then shall we resume our rightful place as the keepers of the flame of high civilization in the entire mass of creation’‘.
Legends claim that in the far south, men made of ice roam…
In the vast Sun-Ocean lies spots of perfect green. The Ankorillian Islands. The “Jewels of the Blue”.
The natives there are strange and wild looking.
Here is the only existing work on how they live, their customs, beliefs and rituals.
The Bowmen of Love are a more or less secret organization found within the larger towns. For a price, they can be hired to drop a love potion into someone’s drink or shoot them, not with a bow despite their name, but with a tiny blowpipe that fires a dart with a love potion on it.
The babies of a small village has been disappearing lately, rumour has it that a demon living in the forest has taken them. The monster has the appearance of a shriveled old woman. A hag, disheveled, with maniacal appearance, wild-looking hair, and an oversized gaping mouth. Long pendelous breasts. The villagers say she eats the newborns and has sharp claws that are created for mangling. No one dears to challenge her, enter the PCs.