An open room lay before them, occupied only by a few cobwebs and dust. Upon entering, a phrase is seen on one wall. One of them utters the phrase out of wonder for its meaning, unknowingly activating the room. An eye opens on the wall in front of the poor souls and with a quick flash of light, the last thing heard from the room is heart retching screams... then silence.

'They're many names given to the things of this vast consciousness that we don't understand, are afraid of, or otherwise just don't want to be associated with. These creatures, though familiar in appearance to many common races, have no name for themselves, but have been appropriately named 'Concordare Iram', Translated: Harmonized Rage.'

The PCC is the second largest religion in the Atlantic Federation.

Crafted from the leg bone of the slain wyrm Ashirkelenge, this rod has tremendous magical power in the right hands.

Once the shipment arrives at the kingdom it seems that all the boxes are empty and for some reason most of the coins were replaced with small rocks and acorns.

Also known as automatics, dummies, skinnies, and mannikins.

'The gods have chosen to smite us today my brethren...but we must fight back'

'How damn it we're just men...insects before their power'

'We will have to find the dagger'

Quite simply, the most sophisticated and pound for pound most dangerous vehicle in the skies of the Cosmic Era

Genimals are the stock and trade of BioCreches and one of the foundation technologies of the biosphere repair effort

'Alright where is the beast so that I can size it up?'

'That's the thing...you see that mountain range over there?'

'Yeah, the twin spires, what of it?'

'Well that's the beast'

Do me a favor, stay dead this time.

The product of the Entwiner's art, this net is carefully crafted with nearly invisible knots in its fine mesh. These knots speak in the language of Entwining Magic, the words of keeping and holding.

You walk into the room and it is like stepping into the grand library. Wall to wall and floor to ceiling is taken up by leather bound loaded bookshelves. All of the tomes are in varying states of decay and none of which are new.

One of the side effects of the rampant cloning and genetic augmentation in the Cosmic Era is the slow emergence of genetic castes.

The walking siege engines of the Cosmic Era

The Rocky Mountain Republic owes in large it's existence to a single limited run of primitive mechs, the Assault/Bombard Mech model 1.

An Amazon nation in the Cosmic Era

A common tool of necromancers, nether mages, and others who are privvy to the arts of the dead and undead

The Fae, they are called, though the reason they are not called by their true name, the Fairies, has been lost to the ages- at least, by the humans. The other races know, the other races know well of the Fae.

Humans have a very short memory. The elves, the dwarves, the goblins, the orcs, they don't. They remember of the interactions between Atheians and the Fae all those years ago in that other age. They know what happened. But the humans... they have forgotten.

This is why they will be the first to die.

An agent of the Vatican, Father Titus is one of it's highest ranking and most effective special agents.