Known in folk-lore as the Blighted Storm-Serpents, the reclusive Kumbra are far more than any might guess.

Fiery doom in two handy barrels. Unsurpassed destructive power. Comes with a five shot warranty.

Should you wish to pluck a rose, or to caress it, beware its thorns, its dangerous beauty.

Some elves lose patience teaching the 'young' races, and set out to employ harsher methods. A few doubt the very intent of mother nature, and set out to bring their own vision to life.

Has your kid been acting strangely? Returning home late at night, bearing bruises and clothes torn? Something else than puberty may be the reason.

Another scary child's toy...

High above the lands of the living, where frost and howling of the wind reign, the morbid monument to a faith long dead calls the deceased on a last pilgrimage.

The high society, the creme dela creme, waste often a great amount of money on luxuries and amusement. In a fantasy world, there is sure more to throw out heaps of money for than fancy clothes, shiny jewels and fast horses, mansions and wars...

Pride. Strength. Skill.
These are the values of the Monroi, woven into their very being - for them, battle is not just self-preservation, but a need.

A fey kingdom fallen, with winter triumphant. A dream frozen, to be thawed by might and heroic deed.

A tool of war, given free will to foster stife and conflict, that used that very same free will to become a messenger of peace.

The mind of a wizard is more open to the more esoteric elements of his surroundings - this is why he is able to perceive the weave of the Great Tapestry that is the multiverse, and pull at the strings. This increased sensitivity can manifest in several ways.

Magic is a blessing and curse, life and death, birth and undoing, a goal and a way.

Seldom does one see a Dunshar 'nude', as an amorphous masses of jelly. They can animate mud, earth, stone or metal, and use them as a body to shield their fragile self.

Sing to me and I shall write, on lilies, poetry of the night.

For your pleasure and entertainment, here we present, thirty fiendlings seasoned with a whiff of brimstone, teasingly clad in shadow, accompanied by tunes played on pipes of angel-bone; likewise do we tell of the gifts they might bestow upon one in their favor.

So get them before Hell freezes over!

A place more holy than any other

A horde of devious, ferocious, tenacious, and atrocious creatures, beasts, and monstrosities to populate the northern realms of your fantasy. Get them while they're cold!

An evil that nurtures evil, a dark mother that is cradle to shadow.

A man of the city in the wild, a man of coin stands at nature's side? Can this go well, can it bear fruit? Will he be worthy, will duty take root?