'Careful where you step. There're grassbiters 'round here.'
-Farmer Jorl

The champion of the Goddess of War!

Dedicated to the gods of death and darkness...

The wraith-witches of Bhudokima create these stones for the braves of the Mani tribes; they are tools of barbarian voodoo, infused with simple magic.

These are an Old Peoples, the original occupants of Daletal. They have been displaced by the Humans into the back corners of The Six Lands and the Badlands. For generations they waited for a sign so they could take their revenge against the Humans. The Great One came and led them. They swarmed across The Six Lands and ruled! Then The Fall occured. Their numbers have been greatly reduced since the time of their vengence, the Time of Merideth. They have returned to their back corners of The Six Lands. They wait for the Return of the Great One.

The Sleeping King is a near mythic figure that has a presence in real history. Originally called the Lost King, he came from a Land to the East where he had been a King. He left his Land because he felt he had failed his people ( the details are vague upon this point). He arrived here to discover a land under the boot of Merideth the Great. He vowed that, 'All people shall be free to live as they need to live. No one should live as a slave to a man or fear!' Thus he began to lead. From a small band came The Six Armies Who Were One. Upon the final assault on Merideth, he brought freedom to The Six Lands. Then left, vowing to return if needed.

This powerful and ruthless legendary leader amassed an army of Beastmen and mercenaries conquering most of The Six Lands. His rule was ruthless, treating the people of the lands as slaves. He took the resources he needed for his campaigns without regard for the 'sheep' left behind. He oppressed the people for nearly two decades before being overthrown by the Six Armies who march as One and the Sleeping King.

Do as thou Will...

A dice game of secrecy and side bets where even the looser can win.

The screeching and squealing sound pierced our skull like a hot poker edging at the back of our mind and taking over any free thought. We knew what it was that was coming for us and could run no more, trapped like a mouse in a maze we frantically ran in circles trying to get away from the inevitable. It towered over us like a frozen monster . . . wait . . . it was. It ran its limbs against its own body knowing what the sound did to us. We cried in agony and horror; in pain physically and mentally. Knowing the fate that would befall us we cried in tight balls on the floor . . . the sound . . . it stopped. I looked up to see it walking away, its shoulders heaving. If I didn't know better I would think it was laughing at me for my fear of it. I'll never know for sure, I hope against all hope that I never will.

- Srowley, adventurer and historian

Savage orcs, intelligent apes, desperate ghosts, and one very lucky little girl.
A curious little side-trek for starting level PCs.

Font of Damnable Contemplation

One of the most popular "Quests" in Dream Park for the 2071-72 season, The Red Ghost and the Crypt of the Ebony Princess has been made into a novel (by Elsmyth himself), a full theatre video, expanded into a broadcast series, and a lack luster home game. It is considered Elsmyth's finest work before his nervous breakdown.

Deep in Sorilyeshcu, the Cloud Jungle of Ozhun, an evil clan of white apes keeps a malign secret.

Disclaimer: Damage sustained to your power suit while crushing your enemies throats is not covered under warranty, and IDC will in no way be held responsible.

The RJD2 series virus, affectionately known as The Red Scribble, is the scourge of cyberspace.

Trapped forever in the grip of the Sea of Jade, paralyzed by the Great Curse, the Fleet of Nazran has become a hellish prison of eternal torment, and the tomb of adventurers from across the Earth.

Gods and Deities. The waking gods have tales and stories aplenty. Books and sermons dedicated to their prayers and beliefs fill many halls of many religious centers and the devout. Continued tales of their deeds abound fill those trying to fill the followers of their gods to the correct path of life. But what of the gods thought lost or who have died over the eons? Are they dead or just sleeping, staying out of sight from the eyes and prayers of man? Only the true dreams know the real answer.

Magical items are often prohibitively expensive, largely because the Dragon Blood crystals needed to power them are so very rare. For centuries alchemists and magicians alike have searched for a cheaper, and more abundant, alternative. This just might be the long sort after formula, but price could be higher than anyone ever imagined.

In the dark alleys of Malcaresh, the Caravan City of the Plains, many an adventurer meets his death at the end of an unseen blade. Even more part unwillingly with their belongings, having fallen victim to the thieves and cutthroats plying their old and ignoble trade. Yet even among these, the whispers of House Caraguil invoke fear and discomfort.