"Hear, O Servant of the Just One! Hear and stand ye before him, the Celestial Judge! Hear and write: ‘Thus speaks the Great Lawgiver, before whom the world shall be tried, the one that is just and righteous beyond all - I am the Law. I am Dalraaen.’"
-The Didache of Law
The worshippers of the Celestial Judge have kept peace and law for a thousand years. When they see great injustice across the Continent, what can they do but fight?
“‘Hear! That which you warred for it gone. In its place is my own creation under my own authority. This Blessed Great Blue is my patronage and you will have no part in it! Lest you soil my sacred waves, I will cause them to crash onto your lands and drown your own creations. End your fighting: the seas are mine.’
Thus she spake from the Merciful Deep.”
- Yamasatran oral tradition
The mysterious Sisters of the Sea watch the events of the Sectarian Wars unfold from the safety of their monastery ships. But how long can they remain neutral before war is brought upon them?
“And into World they cast him, deep below, beneath stone and water and flame. In World’s Heart, doth gape the Peccant Maw, yet starved as the hunger grows unabated. Terror, irony, horror, farce! That which ends all is trapped beneath all.”
-The Tale of the Maw, “The Enslavement of the Devourer”
An ancient cult, the Vautuans worship their god with zeal. Chaos is their sacrament, death their prayer. Will the followers of the Gaping Maw free their god and destroy the world?
For barrel that explode when you shoot them, there’s only one name you can count on, that’s ACME.
Exiled from their home this elite military force is adrift in a foriegn land. All these people have ever known is war so they put themselves for sale as mere mercenaries at the same price as any other sword slingers. But these men have brought a new type of type of warfare to the northern lands and the fields of battle will run red with their enemy’s blood.
“Don’t be a Yak.” A common Ocadian saying.
Transformed by the Ghulscorch Ague, the Lords of the Ghouls walk among usÃ¢?Â¦
"Let their bodies be consumed, so that their souls may be healed" (Consumption 1-1)
If you wake up in a field of green grass, looking at a woman of flesh and steel. Be glad, you are dead. If you wake up covered in blood and shit, be gladder still. For you are alive and your time is not yet come!
‘‘Is not the emir himself a slave of the Allmighty? Everyone should be a slave. Unchecked freedom is a terrible curse and burden that will destroy us if we are not subject to the will of our natural superiors that have it in themselves to elevate all that is noble and proud in their slaves, while stifling that which is head-strong and foolish. Unfortunate is the free man who has no master to rule over him’‘.
”...but bad news sells much better than good news. And no one can deliver the bad news as we can, senator.”
Considered to be misshapen freaks or demonic menaces by the superstitious, these many-armed people dwell as outcasts on the fringes of human society, abused and reviled.
"When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,"
-Shakespeares 29th Sonnet.
Masters of the sea, men of courage and honor, these you will find here and none other.
Before the lands were colonised by the Modern Races, other intelligent beings called them home. One of these races was the Alun - a people much like and much unlike mankind
In this place Brother, all flesh must be eaten.
First Precept of Consumption
The Order of the Yellow Rose was her princess order of bodyguards and companions. It was more like a roving party of dreamers and idealists. They became the spies, military arm, and rabblerousers, of The Yellows and the Duke.
The Sundar family name was one spoken with honor and reverence. None were ever spoke ill of, and should a question arise of their honor and integrity it was quickly set right by those who knew them. Now they are a fallen noble family of disgraced knights who are fearless, emotionless, and uncaring for anything other than own survival and vengence.
A social group of women who meet for purposes of ‘knitting’ and sharing gossip.
A History of The League of Fox
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman