The susurrating death-bringer of the Northern Moors.

"What does this marveous ointment do you ask? It's easily worth the 50 gold an ounce I'm selling it to you for my friend, I can promise you that. ... You still want to know what it does? Well, it ... it sorta ... and then it ... Here! Just try a sample here and see!"

This relic, while of little value against the living, is a formidable tool against the beasts from beyond.

A fey kingdom fallen, with winter triumphant. A dream frozen, to be thawed by might and heroic deed.

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

Hazenbrazen & Gribaldy: Two Necromancers taking over the world one corpse at a time.

They go together like a horse and carriage.
This I tell you brother, You can't have one without the other.

The yang and yin team of Connor, the Urban Paladin, and Heather, The Mystic Cleric, is very effective as his pragmatism is balance by her optimism, her enthusiasm and idealism are tempered by his cautious paranoia, his wounds are healed by her, and she is kept alive by his sword. This effectiveness aside, Connor and Heather are not your normal adventurous members of The Church. Nor are they a couple.

Most know the love that goblins have for mushrooms. Few know the lengths they will go to obtain their delicacy.

"Though they walk as men and grow as weeds, they are neither; the angry dead, feeding the green with the rage until they walk again, yellowing bones bound by the twining green."

Pitiable creatures, wandering forever in search of that denied them, unable to rest even as they crumble away to little more than crawling wrecks of bones.

"My god, what is that?"
"Orcweed, sir. Never need a wall with this growing."

The races of Kuramen are a strange lot, descending down a long lineage from the First Race; prone to dramatic evolutions and born to a world divided, each does the best it can to survive.

Who would want to make food you can’t eat? What purpose does this insane oven exist for?

Generic usage military and nobility titles from China.

The standard system of ranking within a Yakuza syndicate.

"Humans think of plants as food and decoration, but they are living creatures in their own right."

'Did ya hear that? There's riches found every night, all over the town! No way you can miss that!'

Of old, this city was the home of a coven of the Sarkukai, foul devotees of Sarku, Lord of Worms, the God of Rising From The Grave. Though they were driven out, the city remains tainted by the memory of that ghastly cult.

We were quite the motley band, even for adventuresome sorts. Yet being in a party can bring even the oddest people close. Let me tell you a story.

We were on the road to Maltrell and had been for a week. Tempers were short. We had been thrown together by various guilds, temples, and noble houses, and few of us wanted to be here. We had not come to know each other at this point, let alone trust each other. I personally was thinking about breaking my contract. Then I saw it.

Sitting on a log by the side of the quick camp we had for a break were our two of our oddest members. Ton was a bald holy man of the Ancient Dragon Temple. His ways were odd and nobody truly understood him. He was the only man who could act like a servant, yet still have an imperious superior than thou attitude. Sitting with him was good old Darren. Darren was his opposite. He was a cat folk, and very city, very Parisian, if you know what I mean. He was a total dandy, with tons of clothes, foppish snobby attitude, and pretenses to nobility, honor, and station beyond his station. Gods know, I miss that cat.

Anyways, the two were sitting together, had been for a bit I guess. They seemed to be hitting it off, smiling and talking. I could not see what those two could have in common, the most austere and the most...umm worldly.. of our party. When I came up to ask, "What was so funny"? They both leaned back and showed me their feet, wiggling their toes, though they were wearing something shoe-ish. When I looked at them perplexed like, they both burst into genuine laughter. Darren made some comment about only they wore the finest footwear. There was some joke that I did not know. It annoyed me at the time, but to be honest... it was that laughter that held us together. It showed that even though we did come from different places and had different positions, we had things in common - even if they be shoes- and could be as one. One by one, we came to know each other and realized that, as a party, we could complete our mission.