Though each drone possesses little intelligence of its own, together, they are the Kth'k'k'kt, who span the stars.

The proper names and descriptions of a sword's parts.

Centaur-crafted marching drums, imbued with firey power.

A mid-sized sailing ship with an embedded Shard of the Storm.

A beautiful warrior woman, with a sword and soul of ice.

A shield of odd design, created not only to parry, but to destroy the foe's ability to attack.

Located on a world near the heart of Kel’Regar space, Nath’ar’Selass’Resan is a world renowned amongst that kind for it’s beautiful art, high technology, and the absolute lack of things that can kill a woman in dignified fashion.

This tremendous colony ship is the largest ship of the Kel’Regar, grown and built in stages, birthed within the great ‘dry’ dock of Regar-kel-Osh. Fully organic, this ship is the ultimate expression of the Kel’Regar’s power.

"Didja see the way way I nailed that, Marty?" "Thunderingly effective!"

Ringed round by ancient political foes, this ancient nation finds itself dealing with a powerful foe, one with far more sinister hungers than money or land.

A mad doctor who dared defy the laws of the natural order, to transcend death itself, and the creature he created.

It's round. It's silvery. It's got a handle. It's been used to make a million excellent meals, and even more dogs. It's also got a face shaped dent in the bottom.

Bursting with an incredible, terrible complexity, the Oraki are a powerful breed of mechanoids, once that blurs the line between machine and man from the other direction.

Those cast out of eternal life by the Great God Juffo find themselves lost forever in the Non. Here, away from both His Holy Warmth and the cold, harsh vengance of His Adversary, Zeln, there is truly nothing.

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

A summary of the tools, weapons, and transports of the Kel’Regar.

This discreet and stylishly concealable weapon is quite capable of cleaning up its own mess.

Forged of destruction, in the name of hatred, Winter's Tempest is a cold echo of its parent blades, yet still it bears the destruction of the frozen elements.

Here am I, floating in a tin can, far above the moon, Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can doo.

The Thoron. The great crystal ones. The Speakers of Lightning. The unstoppable wall. The unmovable force. Many are their names, few are their numbers, even less is the understanding Man has of them.