The Thoron. The great crystal ones. The Speakers of Lightning. The unstoppable wall. The unmovable force. Many are their names, few are their numbers, even less is the understanding Man has of them.

For centuries, sailors have told the tale of this isle's sole inhabitant, a madman who searches for the solution to an ancient puzzle.

"a new (scientific) truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die, and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it."

Max Planck

In a binary star system circled by four dead, scared planets, a shell of asteroids, and one of the largest intrastellar dust clouds on this side of the quadrant the Silvers are one of the strangest and most enigmatic groups not quite known. Their two giant, red, dying suns leave the system cold and foreboding. They accept no strangers, much to the chastisement of those miners lusting after the rich deposits that span the system. Those few who ignore the shrieking klaxons of the warning beacons meet sleek, silver ships, and then; Oblivion.

Of the little known about this reclusive group a few details are assured, they were founded by some insanely rich (and perhaps insane) personage in ages long past, their ships are feared and envied by nearly every spacer alive, and they are the best mercenaries money can buy, provided you can actually afford them.

What happens? Are you kidding me?

Twin-aspected aliens, the Kel’Regar are strange creatures, and their alien society, strange technology, and lithe bodies evoking the images of elves in some humans.

As you come near the Songpit, the sounds of sweet angelic bardic singing as if from heaven mix with the sounds of screams of agony. Your guard grins and turns to you. 'You'll either entertain us with your voice or with your pain, but either way we are going to have some fun with you.'

Come! Hear Uncle Jehan's band, by the river's side...

A potent drink gauranteed to turn good folk into depraved and desolate madmen.

Lady Carse of Tekne

With enough will, determination, and intelligence, we will remake the world in our image.

Your average posse of adventurous types is hired by a wizard to stop the attacks on a small village.

'Build a road, wide and surrounded by beautiful architecture, to lead from Guilders' Court to the new palace,' the Regent commanded Master Thraso.

Those Terrifying Tumbling Tubers: The Tale

And in the name of the great and powerful I command thee to return to your body, hearth and soul, so that you might walk again and continue in the gods plans.

See that. . . wait. . . what!?! NO! I knew it was too risky here. You have brought ruin to us all. Why you ask? Ready your weapon, a traveler has come.

-Father Hayden, performing a ritual on the deceased outside the protection of the church.

Bursting with an incredible, terrible complexity, the Oraki are a powerful breed of mechanoids, once that blurs the line between machine and man from the other direction.

Standing at the prow of the ship, Ashala rejoiced at the strong winds catching her midnight-black hair - flapping it like a pennant. The dark clouds ahead would have filled other seafarers with dread. Not Ashala. The dark clouds and wicked winds were an invitation, a challenge.

'Steady as she goes!' she shouted over her shoulder to the shipmaster, 'To the Eye!'

The Patron Saint of Beverages, Hang-Overs, Regrets

The dual, muted voice called out it's siren wail across the dunes, '...Of course, no one as brilliant as yourself would ever enter the deeper desert without one of my extra light canteens. Why, I haven't seen anyone come out alive without them! If you act now I can give you the reduced price...'

So, off again we go to slay the evil dragon... but what happens when said evil dragon is asking for a big favour with its dying breath... well, you decide...

A rare sight, but one dreaded by the foes of dwarvendom.