Some People are just born bad
The Man who Burned is coming to this world again, ready to hear your screams of pain and joy.
Born in 1969, just a few weeks after the Apollo 11 mission landed on the moon, Ike Rust's adult life became, in itself, a giant leap for mankind. However, it was not a leap mankind was willing to make with him.
"Uncle Humblestaff?" the young hero responded. "Of course I know the man. Wouldn't have had a chance at the academy without a word from him. He's the big guy over there, surrounded by all those adventurers."
Born to King John XVII, Hope did not get standard princess treatment. Yes, she was locked away in a tower, and yes, there was the standard moat of flaming lava, but unlike all the other spoiled brats, she didn't get a dragon. Hope Rexian had to make do with a demon. And this particular demon couldn't even breathe fire! Simply pathetic job done by the cosmos. Hope may have gotten the valiant-knight-who-happens-to-be-called-Prince-Charming-riding-in-and-killing-guardian-on-noble-steed treatment, but some things just won't do. You can't just mess with tradition like that!
If you were to wander the Spiked Sea today this is one of the movers and shakers you might meet.
"Aye, there be a lot of dwarves 'round these parts now'a'days. Why? 'Cause that Groggar kicked 'em out of their caves. Groggar the Genius they call him. Them dwarves now hate his guts, which is a lot o' hate for a race that they used to call 'infeior.'"
-Old Gerald, man in the pub.
"Which one? Oh, him. He be Pancratius. Yeah, he's a bit moody, but he's all right when you get to know him. Ya see, back in the day, and by that I mean his day, before you an' I were born, he was a big shot. The gods loved him, and one day, he asked for a gift that turned out to be a curse. Once he figured out the horrible side o' his gift, he sought out an oracle, to figure out how to get rid of it. Ol' Pancratius ne'er did tell me what the oracle said. The gift? Didn't I tell ye? No? It be immortality."
-Old Gerald, man in the pub.
Lady Evica is one of the prides of the Hesayan Church--it shows that even monstrous, overtly sexual, colossal mermaids can be brought to worship in Iasu's light. Except not really.
Brief bio of a space intel officer
The creature known as Chadrak has kept his century long vigil over the dessicated tomb dedicated to the heroes of a war long past. What stories can this monster tell?
The only remnant of the Shattering, Lydecker Cain found himself the solitary survivor of a universe that was no more than shards of glass.
Once one of their number, the eternal outcast wishes to take from the Elves what they hold dearest - their dreams, their past, their future.
They had laughed at him in the past, and the press nicknamed him the Admiral, but when the global temperature rose by five degrees, and the waves swept in and drowned the cities, it was his turn to laugh.
"Have you ever felt like there’s a world just beyond ours? Some sort of strange dimension, a light dancing just beyond our fingertips? Well, I’ve touched that ‘sacred’ world, and I know its true face."
Because a true hero does not let reality stop him.
A ambitious cook who uses steam technology and a love for all things edible to make the world a tastier place.
An evil that nurtures evil, a dark mother that is cradle to shadow.
"Ladies and Gentleman, Children of all ages! Welcome to my Carnival! You will see sights to behold, and things beyond belief! Some may frighten you, and some may shock you, but its all in good fun! Please, stay a while…and watch."
"I am not an ambitious man. I am a farmer, like many of you I am glad to say. And like you my pride does suffer because of my role, for it is farmers that make our empire great, I know this and you know this, only our great and illustrious leaders are in the dark, but if you make me Tribune I assure you I will let them know!"
Maric Ameus addressing crowds in the capital
The massive blade known as Consequences carries several potent enchantments of battle, but also has a frustrating quirk: Its wielder finds himself unable to put it down until he enters the presence of a magistrate or other authority. Even then, it instantly returns to his hands if he has committed murder and fails to confess. Unless he somehow resists the blade's magic, the weilder's hands then run with fresh blood; the judgmental blade fights his every motion until he confesses his crimes.