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…

Long has the question of truth been pondered. Long has this been a folly few recognise in time. A killer, a soldier even with a sword is one thing. But a killer who thinks he has found a definite truth, which he decides to fight for, is the most dangerous man in the world.

30 mystical imps to perch upon your wizard's shoulder and whisper the secrets of magic and the universe.

'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.'

An assortment of magical, dangerous plants, derived from natural plants and steeped in odd magics.

Nothing like a slug to clean up a mess...

In the forests around the Unseen Fortress, there are numerous dangerous trees. Here are a few of them...

'Wait, is that the same Damn tree we've been seeing all day?', Ured the strong demanded. 'No... Yes, yes it is.' stammered Fenstill the mage.
'Well, I'm sorry, but I'll have to kill you now...' said Ured, drawing his sword. 'I understand,' said the mage, wondering why he got into the magic business anyway...

With apologies to Monty Python...

From their home, the winds high above the desolate lands below, these giant winged creatures strike silently and sure.

In the realms, not all fortifications are walls of wood, stone and iron.

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.

You find yourself captured by Goblins. (We won't ask, we know it is embarassing.) Looking for your escape, you begin to watch the Goblins. Suprisingly, they are a fairly complex bunch.

Gauranteed to protect you from nightmares, hexes, and the diseases of the loins

Behold, for I am the form of Destruction

Inscription on the Virednith

The Ocadian Desert is a desolate place. The spirit of the land has been crushed, changing the region from a series of islands with evergreen forests and animals in a shallow sea, to one of the most inhospitable places on the Sphere.

'Don't be a Yak.' A common Ocadian saying.

The Black Bard of Nihilism

Thus do the spirits of the six elements take form beyond the norm of elementals of genre fantasy.

The grave robber grinned as he left the royal barrow, his pockets full of stolen gold, and dressed in a helmet and chainmail shirt stolen from the now naked, decomposing body of the king. The explosion that followed ten seconds after he stepped into the sunlight wiped the smile from his face and blew his body into pieces. Had he studied metallurgy, he would have known that the armour was made of pure Orthacarium and he would have left it alone, and escaped the barrow with his life.

Is it liberation or conquest? Humane thought or wanton deicide?
A malicious ploy to make the divine starve?