One of Corleone’s commander has come up with an exquisite trap for the newly forming armies of Ignus. The only problem? He needs bait for the trap, and he’s just hit upon the perfect idea…

'She's dead, Jim.' 'We have the technology, we can rebuild her.' '... Yes. But should we?' 'We must, in order to counter his scheming.' 'Then we'll do it.'

Sometimes, gentlemen, you must find yourself a location beyond the reach of the law. I'm sure you understand. Those dreadful precautions, the endless nagging, sometimes it's simpler to just do what you need to do.

War has begun, and the troops have begun to move. Lying on the border between Esteov and the God's Spine Mountains, Kerrengen Keep secures the main source of fresh water for the capital of Esteov, Lake Kerrengen.

Taronia - Land of mystics and sages. Taronia - Land of the Gods. Taronia - Land of Conquerers.

Capable of delivering up to 20 iron spikes per minute at nearly the velocity of an arrow, the Iron Spike Launcher-9000 is the front line weapon of his most elite clock-work soldiers.

Alowin Brackwater is a beautiful young man, with mesmerizing eyes and a sly, mischievious expression. He just happens to be painted on a large canvas, rather than being alive. Surely, this cannot be held against him.

The Six-Stringed Laser Axe of Thorin Stardust, the Most Metal Space Dwarf in History.

Gene-engineered for deep-space, the Salvorathan resemble nothing quite so much as the legendary ‘dwarf’.

Built for an assassin, the Devouring hand can pass many an attempt to detect it, yet it demands a terrible price of its wearer...

What weight has legacy, what strength has a name, in an era when the stars themselves bend to the will of man, when the gods have been forgotten?

When man thinks of the wild, he thinks of the lush greenery of the forest, of the majestic plains and the deep mountains. He thinks of the elegant wild deer, of the mighty bear and the stealthy wolf. But there is another side to nature. This is the Legacy of one who learned.

The product of a conjuring gone horribly awry, the Devourer hungers, and it hungers not for anything of this world, nor of the next..

The Great Black Stag of the Southern Forests, Donnerwunsch has drunken deeply of the rivers of the Desert of Divine Despair.

Shirion may have been a human once. That time is long past. Now, it is an ever-shifting being, its form lost to time.

Brendan stared at the creature in the pale moonlight, transfixed by the silvery petals that glistened beneath that perfect purity. It was not until his final breath that he gathered his wits enough to scream after the thing had descended on him, all muscle and thorns and hard, barklike skin. It was too impossible, even the crimson blossoms that shone in the light of the moon.

A single room in the lair of those cast away by the gods, this place of worship is nothing the adventurers are likely to expect here.

This mighty polearm contains the bound and unwilling spirit of a daemon, who's dearest desire is eternal vengance on the one who bound him.

Sacred tools of protection granted to those who must travel in the name of the One God, these lightly made, weighted gloves are easily overlooked.

A long forgotten city, with surprising inhabitants.