His breath faltering into a final rasping final gasp as the stone coils crushed his throat, these last words resonated through the fading mind of the would-be grave robber.

''You dared to defile the tombs of the ancient kings, Lusoh scum, but die knowing that I will never allow once inch of this scared land to fall into the hands of those would seek to destroy the nation of my divine fathers. Long live the Shining One, Goya Varman. For I am him..''.

Created as a weapon by the ancient sorceror-primotologists of the Iron Triangle Nation, the Cutsman still stalks the underhalls of the city of Mehxaiyul, a spectre of blood and blades.

the Apple Tree of Selilion holds the secret of life and death

This demon was the pride and joy of the summoners guild. They used it in their war with the Vampires. But the Vampires' freed the demon hoping that it would destroy it's former masters.

'You know that saying that man made god? No, of course you don't. But we didn't make god. We made the Devil, and god is just a word the frightened cling to, to protect them from their own creation. And you? You are my creation. You are my devil.

Beneath crumbling towers wait
Ishafel's Horror and Hate
A monster grim and bleak
Go to it if death you seek

Shirion may have been a human once. That time is long past. Now, it is an ever-shifting being, its form lost to time.

Having spent many years facing the Swollen Shadow and it's lieutenants, the dwarven resistance fighter Vars is one of the few people who could be considered an authoritative source on the most active and malevolent of the Shadow's Minions, the Haints.

Featured creatures of the Swollen Shadow Codex.

Several arson attacks, and two deaths later, as the Mayor retreated from the ashy figure before him and his curtains went up in flame, he decided that burning the Bishop had been a very bad idea.

homunculi of the Old World, epargner daemons were once as common as cats...

When in towns or near human habitation, be careful what you use your swords on, for that large sluglike Velvet Worm you might be facing could well be someone's beloved family pet.

'The last thing we ever saw was its inky tail as it swept under the door. I fear the scions of Durnthar have taken yet another piece of us.' - Gould Maran, Keeper of the Throne Seal

What happens when the very fabric of magic is transformed into something else by accident. When the theories of transference are shattered due to lack of preperation and study?

As long as you do not experiement around your stash of magic scrolls, luckily you will never know.

Some are called dhampir, others exalt as champions of undeath, and yet neither of these are correct...

Bound to serve, unable to leave, many go insane with the duty of a ghoul.

Forget the rickety, fragile skeletons. Remove all thoughts of the limping, weak zombies. Shrug off thoughts of blood-dependant vampires. Whereas the former are reflections of necromatic magic, the Mogrolyth is a creation derived from the pure essence of unholy power - namely pain.

Some years ago a dark cult was founded in the Forecastle area of Hahvrensburg. The cultists were defeated by a band of heroes. A month after the heroes left the city and went on about their business, something massive came out of the earth.

Below the surface of the Earth, dwelling in darkness and forgotten catacombs, the goat-headed Ghouls, dark spirits of murder, feast on the dead. Ghouls dwell in old, forgotten places, luring others down into the grasping claws of their evil tribes.

The Azhag ('ah-ZHAHG'; from Old West-Carmanian azadg, meaning watchman, sentry), called Tomb Guardians or Demon Shadows, are the terrible Undead guardians of the tombs of the Ancient Ones.