The Dark Kind came to the world as conquerors. They failed. Now they are odd neighbors.

Burninating the countryside,
Burninating the peasants
Burninating all the peoples
And their thatched-roof COTTAGES!
TROGDOR!

The genesis of Gurgustius and Gorboduc and the curse upon their father Brutus is a terrible legend. Who knows if it is true? But it is the only way to account for the hideous sutured spawn of the King who is hidden.

The Wordfishes of Hloth, known also as the Sshpah, are strange composite-minds of the Hlothian jungles.

You could only hear the rest of them. And you could only hear them because they didn't mind being heard. Running in the trees they were. We followed the little guy named Dorto. He led us to a spot and said in broken Gallen, "Here is village". There was nothing there I tell you. We looked about and could not see a thing. He smiled and pointed up. You could see it then, the huts and nests and ropes. A bunch of them were just hanging there by their feet looking at us. It was going to be an odd night. Exerpt from A Sailor's Journey, by Ptholus WindRider

Concluders haunt the frozen lands of their home in search of knowledge.

Blessed by the spirits of the forests, these feline creatures have barely begun the long, slow climb to civilization.

Gnomes, fascinated with magic, tried to find a way to safely access it, and instead wound up addicted in the deadliest way.

Clarence was singing in harmony as his kind is wont to do. Their singing reinforced the 'song of existance'. It was a somewhat important job, even though only a handful were needed rather than the hundreds that did so. He and others near him noticed the pin prick discordence in the weave of melody that was the material realm. Those dark alien notes rose up. The Angel Mind touch the Divine and followed the new sub melody. Humans would call it a plan. Angels dove to the material realm and, of course, if any world was going to be causing problems, it had to be Earth. Oh well, at least Clarence would know his way around.

Alive with emotion -
Constantly in motion -
With inner voice, 'hind innocent face -
a cunning mind -
Metal fairies in the depths of space?

The smoke-breathing gnomes of the Thunderheads

There was a flicker through the workshop. Most Elfs did not realize it had happened. They kept working like nothing happened. Toby didn’t understand how he knew, but he felt more solid, more real; which for an Elf - a spirit of Christmas- was pretty amazing. Toby knocked on batteries he was putting in some toys, they seemed more solid too. This odd feeling did not last long, as the Ultra Naughty Alarm went off. Someone was threatening Christmas itself. He quickly reached into his tool kit. Toby hefted his monkey wrench which felt amazingly stable and solid. The Elfs were going to fix this naughtiness straight away.

Also known as Vampires.

These are the various races of humans in Locastus, City of Mirrors.

The Broan, an enigmatic, amphibious species of unknown origin, that lives in the salt-water marshes to the east of Locastus.

Perhaps one of the oldest of the humanoid races, the Pelamids are a sort of missing link between terrestrial humans and aquatic merfolk.

Predator, nightstalker, brother to beasts, call me a monster long enough brother and I very well might become one.

Jaurmes, Augrune woodcutter

The giants of the Thunderheads

Humanity is as varied as the stars themselves.

"The walls moved!" Krunis exclaimed. This he was sure of it this time.
"Of course they did. They are trying to accommodate the additional room needed for tonight." Xarn returned matter-of-factly.
Living stones are tuned to one master to do his bidding.