Graves of a small, little known folk, exotic as dangerous.

One of the things you always carry around, and never give it a second look. But even a second look would not help to reveal this one.

'The Welcoming Ones' are the first contact many people will have with the spirit world. Actually, for many they are the first creatures they meet after death.

Of fire, but not elementals. Short-lived, yet intelligent. Bound to this world they are, more than most of its mortal inhabitants.

There was He, and there was She. And She was shy of men at first, always being told to distrust them. But He taught Her what love is, and promised Her everything he could. And they lived in happiness, and their love was perfect, for the rest of their lives.

"I walked through the poor's quarters, and my eye was not harmed. All functional, and simple, and crude, made on the whims of fate and delivered by immediate need.
I walked through the merchant's quarters, and my eye was bored. Pretensions where nothing backed them, striving for appearance without substance, evidence of changing wealth, too much only began, too much never finished.
I walked through the place where the powerful lived, and my eye was tired. Too much of attempted beauty turned hideous, and a lack of taste was made worse by willing lackeys.
But then I've seen the treasure of the city. A cathedral, that was part of the sky, columns, and arches to carry the weight of the world, shapes to let your mind fly along, and ornaments to stop by. A place to ponder, to be pleased to be alive, to accept suffering, and to realize your mistakes. This is a place I could learn from."

A strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret...

The members of this obscure order specialize in growing funghi. Growing, researching and studying many kinds, they even try to create new ones.

Mathom, the God of Delays, is an overlooked but powerful entity. Few worship him, but many remember him with word and deed.

'That was the second lynching this month. And last week they haven beaten some old sod that could barely crawl home.'
'Well, he was a drinker and bad to his wife, sir. It is really hard work they do, and not for much pay. But sir, we are doing wonderfully, all is going as planned and better!'
'Yes, the cathedral could be built months before expected, if we can keep up this speed. You are all doing great work, I'll be sure to inform the Patriarch. Just take care no accidents happen anymore.'

What is the worship of knowledge for some, can be revenge for a few, and unwanted revelations for others.

Perhaps not quite what you would expect. Certainly it is a sword that can produce flames at will.

The Heart that beats slowly in the dark.

The Challenge:
Think of any bizzare life-form, WHATEVER life-form that lives a not-so-standard way. Not the way common sense would expect it. Make it in some way logical or not, just forget the boring everyday logic.

Do you need a change in your normal gaming pace? Bored or simply needing something different? Then come here.

Magic is a strange power, that can be harnessed (or not?), but never fully understood. Magic should be unique. Magic could be REALLY unique on this one world...

'Did ya hear that? There's riches found every night, all over the town! No way you can miss that!'

The mountains are often a desolate place, but not without dangers, or opportunities.

The lowly Undead cannot be a true replacement for a living well-motivated workforce. But Undead do not tire, they do not have moods (well none worth marking), they do not require pay or lunchbreaks, and can work 24/7, if properly controled. So until activists start to fight for Undead rights, they are an interesting option.

The Pelezians, or 'clay people' were strongly bound to the earth. In fertile plains and valleys they lived their happy existence, peaceful, yet ever on their guard. Many nomadic attackers they defeated, until a different enemy came; their advanced technology and weapons (and magic) were beyond the skills of defenders. One-by-one their settlements fell, until the clay people were not more.

To the greedy students of the past, their heritage is but not forgotten.