A first generation supersoldier program, Dynamo Atlas was a success, and there are still a good number of these 'titans' alive and active
A Revised and improved collection of scallywags, scoundrels, and nautical ne'er do wells.
A bloodthirsty band of brutal barbarian brigands, baneful and bleak in bearing. Beware!
"By the Winter of 182 AR, Emperor Vezimmir's rule in Tiberia was almost complete. With shrewd diplomacy and ruthless military insight, he had decimated the Eturian Empire by first breaking a deal with Rollo, Warlord of the Vesi, to invade Datia. Most of Eturia's armies were off West fighting the Adamantians alongside the Drysians. However, to ensure that Datia never received aid from Eturia, Vezimmir orchestrated with the Reavers of Oskaria to descend upon Eturia's poorly defended coastal cities. It comes as no surprise that, with the fall of the Eturian Empire, her lands were in no shape to deny the Emperor's rule."
“A kill within every ten steps,
Not leaving traces within a thousand miles,
Dusting off one’s clothes and leaving after the deed,
Hiding one’s presence and name deep.”
~ Excerpt from Li Bai’s “The Verse of the Wandering Swordsman”
"Who would expect a commoner from a land that had once rejected the Son of the Light and the Holy Empire to become the next heir to the draconic essence of Traghen?"
William Dashaw, Lord Scribe to the Illyrian Court.
"I watched my family burn. I kill men with the tools of my father's trade. He created. I destroy. That is a gift the Light chose me to bear. Think well you before you pray to the Light for gifts."
Chosen of the Essence of Traghen, High Lord of Barbarus, Keeper of Sentinel, Wielder of the Soulhammer.
One bad moment left him permanently destitute. Down on his luck, Mark Greaves learns that necessity sometimes brings you to work you never realized you could be good at.
Freya is very tall and thin, you would know her if you saw her, for her eyes are shining from within. her face beautifully adorned teeth razor sharp; her clothes of the softest silk and her voice as soft as a harp. She sways her head from side to side, with movements like a snake; And when you think she's half asleep, she's really wide awake!
Priest of a death goddess
The dark elf femme fatale Elainuk was the firstborn son of Robert and Lulu Bobblecork. She was born a healthy bouncy baby boy in the shire of Pedstand, which was part of the Cordially Aligned Tetrarchy of Halfling States.
German zeppelin corps commander Peter Strasser explaining that those who provide the materials of war are just as dangerous as those that fight the wars.
My take on Dracula for my 1640's Demon Hunting Game
The fearsome horror of the Drow-Beholder-Liche!
"Would you prefer I run my sword through your spine and leave you laying here for the wolves to gnaw upon or to just burn you alive with my magic? I would prefer to collect what I am after without the use of violence, but make no mistake I will kill you to remove this trinket from the hands of humanity."
~Halimath the Wanderer~
Roaming the back roads, ever searching for his lost head. Beware the Headless Motorcycle Man.
Ex-daughter of wealthy corporate execs and former leader of The Rust Scopions turned information broker and mercenary, suitable for sci-fi/cyberpunk games
Marked One, a tattooed warrior who is more than he seems...
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...