To kick things off I figured I would post small previews of things I’ve written and plan on sharing in detail later. If you like this stuff, expect a lot more!
It burns away all pain – past, present, and ever. Behind it leaves spectral ghosts of charred flesh, content in their empty state. They beckon and call to those in pain to come, to become as they are.
Fae strange gusts that turn you invisible, blowing your corporal form far away. You remain in spirit, but finding your body is another matter. The plateau of Always Being is permanently quiet despite the billowing silver breeze.
A black heart buried deep in a cave, infecting the surrounding area. The sands sap all life, but it’s a slow, insidious killer. Dead skies lacking birds, dead Waters absent of all life. Nothing stirs here. The heart itself is the tortured undead cage of a local Baron’s soul, who used it to achieve a perverse immorality. Here, scattered among the mostly eroded corpses of past explorers, you keep finding the same troubling bit of paper…a contract from the baron to find this very coast and clear it of evil.
The phaga are mountain people of mystical origin. They appear as man sized beetles, and tales tell of them training a legendary hero. Most famously, they can sacrifice parts of their inner self to strengthen their outer self. The can give up smell, hearing, sight, hunger, dreams, and pain, each time gaining a increasingly heavy and durable carapace. Some say that the most dedicated give up motion to remain forever immune to the outside world. They serve their order as living armor and relics.
Harvester of the honored dead
A colossal monster who once horded spices and food in it’s shell, the beast has been “tamed” by priests to serve a new purpose. They hallowed out the shell in order to store the mummified remains of the Dead. By properly preparing the corpes with enticing spices and leaving them out in the path of the creature, it ensures it is collected. As long as the prepared bodies are left along this sacred path, the beast never strays from it and reduces the damage to civilized settlements. without these offerings, it begins to get off track and requires intervention from the specialized tamer priests.
The noii’a, known to men as the Ceasarens of the salt seas. These indigenous natives live in Caste system of sub races based on body and shell type, much like the worker, soldier, and queen ants found in the wild of [world]. All have hard domed shells which are shed 3-4 times in a lifetime, which seems to be a deeply personal experience. Never has the actual act of shedding and growing a new shell been observed by an outsider by our records. This process creates valuable artefacts of culture and personal worth. The typical custom is the use of the shell in music, shields, or art.
Under the shell are found inflatable sacs that allow floating on a waters surface, keeping the noii’a just below the waves. While they do not possess gills, they have a deep lung capacity and can remain submerged for hours. According to local fisher tales, the noii’a can snap a fish with it’s bare claws so finely it narey disturbs other fish.
Highly self sufficient people, the noii’a possess a culture of passing down tribal memories and knowledge by having the old care for the young. Meanwhile, the able bodied hunt, gather, and protect this core unit to ensure the safety transfer of norms and ritual. This instills shared values at a young age, and many wilding scholars believe this is a contributing factor factor for the noii’a being so rarely seen outside their own territory.
The noii’a refers to both the people and what they call The Way. Mischaracterized by outsiders as a religion, it is a nebulous term for their traditions, history, and faint subconscious connection that all noii’a feel. In fact, when regional groups of the noii’a have been targeted by foreign powers, surrounding tribess have shown signs of growing more aggressive and xenophobic despite no direct contact with the original group that was targeted.
There have been a small number of legends that refer to a non ceasaren that is of the noii’a, either through deeds done in their name, or by recognition of them post humorously. None of these legends have been confirmed or observed in recent, or that is to say, recorded, times.
Living skeleton that steals flesh and places it onto its body to make itself stronger. Builds a thick hide of powerful muscle and layers of skin and does not eat. Instead it strips flesh from those it attacks and further builds itself up. Attacks strip flesh and empower the monster if they hit unarmored parts. Wield weapons and may ornament themselves with armor, but never much; are otherwise nude. Generally human height and speed, but physically stronger and do not suffer from bleeding or other injuries associated with living creatures.
Flesh misers can only take flesh from living things, not corpses, so they capture humans and other creatures out of necessity rather than for fun. They flay these creatures alive and piece the skin and meat on themselves. They are actually quite vain and they build their flesh up in a way they find “fashionable”. They also like to modify the flesh with tattoos, piercings, embroidered designs, plates of metal, fabric sewn in or attached with piercings, etc. While their skeleton still defines limb location and general form, they sense supernaturally and so may have completely different arrangements of sensory organs, for instance. Crowns of ears, eyeless faces, a beard of boneless fingers, etc. The flesh misers separate themselves socially by the degree of their flesh coverage and their material wealth. The lowest rank ones may be so thinly fleshed that they have exposed bone; something considered the ultimate faux pasfor them. The higher ranked collect “fancy” objects like magpies and build garish jury-rigged palaces in abandoned buildings.
Flesh misers are difficult to kill; they have to be physically hacked apart, at least two limbs and the head must be severed, crushed or otherwise destroyed.
This inconspicuous insect appears like a normal butterfly with bright red wings. Travelers are warned, however, to never trust a “redwing.”
Unlike their mundane cousins, blooderflies do not drink from flowers. They drink from beasts and men, tearing small chunks of flesh with a small but painful barbed proboscis. When squashed they erupt into a body else pulp and leave behind the acrid scent of days old blood.
Where these terrible pests come from is unknown, but common theory is that they emerge from corpes left out in the rain. Cultists of yethmaw tend to keep them as pets or familiars, thinking them a cruel joke from their patron against the stained world of the living.
Ashes of yethmaw
This urn is covered in crude mouth and fang motifs and is capped with a heavy stone lid. Inside, black ash appears to swirl slowly on it’s own, causing a hypnotic sense of unease. Myths of the Herax say these ashes come from the living sacrifices burned in Yethmaw’s honor.
When a pinch of these ashes are placed in the mouth of a dead creature, it rises over the course of the next night as a terrible creature – the Yethmaw Devourer.
Devourers know nothing but eternal pain and torment as they consume and slaughter any living thing it finds. As they consume, they grow in power, but worse still their bite does not heal through normal means. Instead they leave a blackened and shriveled wound that putrifies and rots. Only the workings of spirits can tend such a wound.
It it said that the sight of a whitened corpse with an ashen mouth heralds the end of life. The devourer seems bent on ensuring this is true. Would be slayers of such terrors would be wise to consider the use it indirect confrontation, such as fire or entrapment.
There are rumors that the living can ingest the ashes as well to receive a “blessing” of the unending hunger god, but none are alive that can verify such a claim.
In addition, here is a short adventure I wrote that you’re welcome to use. It’s not fancy but it’s playable.