Existing at once in the mortal plane and upon the plane of Fire, the Grand Pyre of the Phoenix is the ultimate testament to the power of the Lord Zevarith.

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.

"Humans think of plants as food and decoration, but they are living creatures in their own right."

The Crown Princess of Sadaren needs a husband! There's just a few teeny little problems.

While we're talking about the subject of constructing religions, I'd like to bring up the concept of the Creed. The creed is nothing more than a simple statement of the religion's beliefs, meant to be recited. If you cannot write a creed for your monotheistic religion, it probably needs work on internal consistency. Creed examples:

These small, luminescent creatures are a distant relative of the willowisp, little bits of orangish light that are attracted by the flames of a fire. When enough of them have gathered around a fire, the fire appears to take on a fuzzy indistinctness.

A coward's ring, Spathi's Ring of Elusion allows the magi wearing it easy escape from battle, and a parting shot to be remembered by at the same time.

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.

One of the common variations on magic is the concept of 'sword mages' or 'knight mages'. We all know and love them as the folks in full plate that split globes in twain with flaming swords, before twirling around to change their flame sword to an ice sword so they can stab the flaming angel of vengeance in the chest to maximum effect.

Even as humans can be, the Kel'Regar, too, can be touched by madness, and it can drive them to push to ends incomprehensible by the sane. The work of one such, Kararemi'ar'Salm'Torat, the Menangerie of Mad Creation, is a twisted, living structure, tormented by years of loneliness and incomprehensible need.

An otherwise simple spear, the dread blade of Hatred brings rot and decay to all it strikes, be it armour, body, or soul.

"Let death be not only merciful, but elegant."

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

'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.'

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

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

Even the Thoron may thirst for knowledge, and Embraced-A-Star has chosen the most direct route it can find to new discoveries. It chooses to go where no other creature can.

'A man needs two things to become a saint. He must perform three miracles, and then he must die. Perform your miracles, sir, and come to me when you are ready to become a saint.'
—Azariah Saintmaker, Dread Lord of Hatred

All know that Elves cannot die, and that Men do. All know that Men go unto the Underworld upon their death, and that the Elves retire unto the Spiritual Elysium. Yet in the Great Scheme, where goes the one with one foot in the Underworld, and one foot in the Realm of Spirit?

When one cannot die, obsession with death is such a natural thing.

Centaur-crafted marching drums, imbued with firey power.