... And Alexi, Please don’t let this bring you down. You have your entire life ahead of you - Let me become nothing more than a memory. We will never see each other again.
Have a family that is ever at odds with each other? Beware lest the Slurran comes for you..
A land of witches and evil magic, a pox on it!
Darak One-Eye, from the Book of the Black Rose
The Arrival of the Regiments has commenced
The Demon Archivist, organizer of Hell’s Caravan
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 Lavas are animalistic warrior-demons who converge in packs like lice on the inconceivable walls of Hell, filled with inconceivable fury and berzerk bloodthirst.
“The last thing we ever saw was its inky tail as it swept under the door. I fear the scions of Durnthar have taken yet another piece of us.” - Gould Maran, Keeper of the Throne Seal
James Barley is a hard drinking, minimum-effort working hired hand…
I’ll tell you something, there was a demon in Widow Suvar’s Wine cellar. How do I know, ‘cuz I seen it that’s how I know.
From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.
- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.
“I see an upstart within the ranks of the Ba’craht. This can not be. I, Sarku the Impaler of a Thousand Children, am forced to qwell those who try to supplant their superiors yet again. It is good to be me.”
Sarku the Impaler of a Thousand Children, Murder of the Coup of Hundred Souls, Judge of the Three
Abject beauty corupted with a dark soul and no heart. Can beauty be the ultimate evil?
"Reports of those damned Atistaur are filtering back among the Hundtaur. Send a unit over to have them silenced. The last thing I need is something else in my brain telling me what I need to do.
Slaughter them all and pray to the Weapon that Kills that this day will be bloody. Sing the song of your God and may they get you through today!"
- Legatus Suuhai - Commander of the Minotaur Armies of the Blades
“Masters say the advanced scouts have reported no enemies to the west of the plains. We are to assault them from their western flank and pepper their bodies with vengence and blood. To victory and the God King.”
- Ebertaur Tracker - Battle of the Forgotten Sorrow
Dalme is one of the various travelling Tinkers plying their trade in the villages along the back roads. One can hear his cart from a arrow shot away, clanking and clinking, his wares: pans, pots, utensils, plow shares, cow bells, and other metal bits, banging against the side of his cart. The rest of his goods are kept inside his house cart (mugs, plates, fabric, ribbon, and other things) along with his anvil and fire bellows. He tells news, shares jokes, and does a bit of trading. He is everything a tinker is expected to be…. and unfortunately much more.
Appearing in the form of a massive bloody spider, the Bone Stitcher is one of the more macabre creations of the infernal…
All of his life Fflam lived in the shadows of greater and more terrible demons than himself. One day he would show them all…
Destined am I to hunt down and slay the half breed called Rachat, for only his demise can bring me what I yearn for…
Can a demon ever learn what it means to feel pity, grief, fear, despair, joy and the rest of those tangled emotions and feelings that plague humans? Can beings who obtain their deepest satisfaction from the suffering they inflict on others,ever embrace those very things they so passionately despise and hate about the mortal races? Mozrak,wisest of the half-demons and beloved of the Mother Godess, believed it not impossible. The Staff is both his curse and gift to his pureblood cousins.
He is the one that whispers dreams of power and conquest in the ears of those in positions of power (or positions to take said power). He not only motivates them, he gives them ideas and plans (which they think are their own) to conquer the city/ country/ world. He manipulates the weaker minds around him, so they will follow his designated puppet. Using their own greed and lusts, his puppets will destroy the world as it is now… turning it into one where Gathrack and his kin would thrive.
And who would suspect a pet cat as the instigator of a world in chaos.
Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.