Shadows gather...and linger.

Wherever the PCs have gone recently, they have heard the talk. The Doomsday Machine of Toothless Amalgam has stopped spitting out birdseed. The End is nigh.

Powlgraff, The Fowl City.

30 unique ships, for those times when you need one on the fly. The class or type of each ship is provided. Included are three odd ones from the pages of history.

The Jesk family inn.

E'Scatonia's demon-wrought strongbox held her favorite things.

Save/Help the Halflings! They offer rewards. Material and otherwise.

NC-17

Therianthropes? Lycanthropes? Animorphs? Homo-Zoological-Hybrid-Sapiens? Manimals? Take your pick.

'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.

Once a year, and each year in a different place, the wandering bazaar and social gala that is the Thieves Convention is held. Invitations Only!

Space-Faring, Hard-Rocking, Metal-Grinding, Star-Tripping, Deathdealing, Dwarves.

*Sphhisshh* *Sphhissh* *Sphhissh*

The sea is calm, the morning mists clear, the seagulls cry out, and land comes into view

Vog's Children, the Lava-Oil Symbiotes

Pets mind you. Not exotic monster companions. No saddled dire-boars to be found here. No purple worm caravans.

TOP SECRET! A Pickled Herring

Colossal Water Lilies

Food of the gods.

Come ye who HUNGER!