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ink the troll:
Hope it's ok to post this here - it deserves to be available again and I had saved part of it. So:

--- Quote ---General background fluff

The forces of Heaven (aka the Light or the Host or any one of a hundred different names in a hundred different religions) consist of several noble gods, each dedicated, if not to the furtherment of mankind, then at least to its continued existence. They are gathered under the celestial banner of the Lord of the Host, the supreme Creator, although not all of these Noble Gods are what you?d call sociable or even pleasant company. They have angels, seraphim, cherubim and terrifying angelic monsters at their command, plus the few mortals deemed worthy enough to join their ranks as Ascended.
They are at war.
It is a war that has lasted for 2500 years, played out on either side of the realm of mortal Men, a mere shadow?s distance from the real world.
Against the armies of heaven is the Fallen God, the Darkness itself, antithesis of the light, the Nameless One who was exiled from heaven, having sought to usurp the Creator as Supreme being and eradicate the race of men from the earth. He turned twelve of the original thirteen Archangels to his cause, creating the Netherlords, who although not quite as powerful as the noble gods, are nonetheless demi-gods, or more, in their own right now.
If the Nameless One ( a misnomer, he is known by many names by the peoples and races of the world) ever turns the thirteenth archangel to his cause, it is thought he will have enough power at his command to wage open war against Heaven even on the mortal planes. For when each of the Netherlords turned to Darkness, they took with them the eternal souls of a great proportion of the human tribes that were born of their flesh in the dawn of the world.
Ashtaroth, the Prime Evil, was father to the tribes of men that, now twisted and cursed, became the Feral Beastmen of the middle lands, with cloven feet and bestial horns and faces mimicking his own evil.
When Medusa, the most beautiful of the arch-angels fell and her body became twisted to represent her own insidious corruption and vanity, her people were also twisted, into the reptilian beings known as the Snakemen, or Slithi. They rule the southern kingdoms and have built many temple-cities to their mistress. She is cruel and merciless even by the standards of hell. She also vies constantly with her sisters for the attentions of the Nameless One.
Beelzebub, the Lord of Flies and Father of Lies is said to have spawned many of the monstrous creatures that infest the mortal planes, from the massive poisonous spiders of the Eternal Mountains to the dog-sized Boreworms of the Western Lands. His name is especially cursed when plagues roam the land, for then the bodies of men, women and children fester in the gutters of cities and maggots and flies dance in their rotting corpse-eyes. Beelzebub is perhaps the keenest of the Netherlords to involve himself in the plans of his Fallen Ones and in this respect he might be compared to the hideous spiders he sired, sitting in the centre of his vast web and tugging at strands of demonic silk.
Caralaa was the youngest of the archangels. Her lust for combat was her undoing and her passion for violent retribution was only amplified by her fall from grace.

There are a great many more dedicated servants of Darkness from the mortal worlds than there are dedicated servants of the Light. The armies of Hell and Heaven are both vast but the armies of Darkness grow larger all the time as more and more mortals are knowingly corrupted and their souls join Hell?s ranks in demonic form. Only the Paladins, last true descendants of Gabriel, the Thirteenth, have the power to redeem these souls by destroying them utterly, freeing them from hell?s bondage.

Fallen Ones like a good enemy to distract them from their otherwise dull eternity.
They like to play with their new toys until they get bored and THEN they kill them. So in the main part they keep throwing Dark Lords and schemes at the heroes, turning up occasionally themselves disguised as a regular dark lord.

The Rules of the War, that is to say the Lore, between heaven and hell are that the Netherlords, Fallen Ones and various Angels may not interfere directly with the affairs of mortals unless the other side has done so first. They can offer guidance when asked via eg an oracle, temple or shrine.

Unsurprisingly, hell cheats when it can get away with it.

A Fallen One (and some other of its demonic minions) can disguise itself to journey into the mortal lands but if its disguise is revealed then there is only a little time before an Angel turns up to fight it. In the mortal realms, Fallen Ones won?t bother to fight heroes if their schemes are defeated and their true form revealed; they will simply laugh, maybe curse them and retreat through a portal back to their own netherhell, vowing revenge.
If however, heroes are foolish enough to journey into the netherhells, then they are fair game for a fallen one and cannot lorefully receive any aid from heavenly hosts.

Also unsurprisingly, heaven also cheats. angelic agents often disguise themselves in the same way as fallen ones, often as monks, priests, nuns, other holy people, old people or travellers of some description that are able to contact heroes and warn them of foul plots etc. If an angel appears anywhere other than a temple dedicated to a noble god, its presence will be detected and the forces of hell will converge to kill it. In exactly the same way, demons can only appear in their own unholy unconsecrated territories such as Dark Temples, without being visible to heaven?s armies.

More background fluff

The world in which the Netherhells universe is set is a grim place, a mixture of magic, arcane science and death. Scattered kingdoms war constantly with their rivals, making and breaking allegiances every day. Good and kind rulers are few and far between and are invariably toppled by their enemies within a few years or less. Some kingdoms practise tolerance and justice, whilst others are ruled by tyrants whose merest whim sentences half their population to a tortured death. Most terrifying of all are those kingdoms where demons roam the lands at night, emerging from hidden cave mouths that lead to the Netherhells, the six hundred planes of Hell, and eventually to Hades, and the King of the Demons. These demons ? seemingly endless in their variety - terrorise villages and towns, slaughtering and maiming men, women, children and livestock. No depravity is below these foul hordes and all live in fear of their attacks. It is said that the great city of Deoraby in the north is secretly ruled by a demon prince, a man who sold his soul to the Nameless One, the King of Demons, in return for terrible strength, power and immortal life. Further to the west, in the Fields of Ash, a dread tower of fused bone stands, marking the entrance to the Labyrinth of Eternal Damnation, a vile nest of demons and other monstrous beings said to hold an infinite wealth of gold and jewels. Many brave or foolish adventurers have journeyed to the Bone Tower, seeking fame, glory and fortune but finding only horror, torture and death.
In these pitiless days it seems that every hour the forces of darkness become stronger. Orcs have begun to pillage further and further south from their mountain strongholds, sometimes allying with demons, sometimes even allying with those Men that have fallen towards the darkness themselves. Often such an alliance ends in betrayal by one or even both parties, and the hordes of darkness slaughter each other beneath a bloodied moon, as their intended victims sleep in their beds, unheeding.
Such lands breed heroes too, men of honour and courage, for whom the night holds no terrors greater than their own formidable fighting prowess. Stories told in local inns recount the deeds of mighty barbarians from the far north, giants of muscle and sinew whose fell axes bring death to their foes in bloody arcs. Warlocks from the Land of Smoke hurl lightning at the demons and none can stand against them. Mysterious and beautiful elves are seen travelling across the moors between villages, their keen eyes and deft hands decimating the ranks of Darkness with their lethal bows, whilst Dwarves from the hill clans split the very mountains asunder with their blackpowder. Whether the tales are accurate or not matters not. They give hope to the huddled townsfolk, and sometimes inspire new heroes to come forth.
In truth, the life of these heroes is one filled with relentless horror. Day after day, they fight against demons, orcs, ferals and other evil creatures, killing and killing again to survive in their quests. What little gold they may find is sometimes scarce reward for the hardships endured, and the endless death they must endure and inflict can be a soul-deadening process. They become immune to first the horror of death, then slowly may start to see the world in shades of grey rather than black and white. It seems an easy step to move from raiding the lairs of demons for gold, to slaughtering the guards in a poorly defended palace, to slaughtering anyone who stands in the way of their goals. A desire for revenge that lead to a life of adventure may lead to a lust for killing itself. When the bodies of your enemies cannot be counted, the occasional innocent victim can be easily overlooked.
Most terrible of all these corrupted figures are the Fallen Ones. In life these were the greatest of heroes, giants amongst their kind, whose quest for glory spiralled into madness and demon-worship, whose subsequent fall into darkness consumed their very souls, and who have climbed the ranks of the demon-kin, ruling their own subterranean lair or even a whole Netherhell, blessed by the King of Demons himself, cursed for all eternity. If such creatures are rare, then rarer still are the Redeemed but it is they who perhaps hold the salvation of the kingdoms in their destiny. They are the heroes who fell into darkness and yet who found the light again, who once were Fallen Ones and reclaimed their soul, their bodies tall and proud once more yet still bearing some of the marks of evil upon them, shunned by all, feared and reviled by the ignorant peasants they would protect. It is whispered that a Redeemed may even journey with a party of adventurers, swathed in robes or concealed by a spell, revealing his true nature only when no other choice can be made, slaying demons and beasts alike with raw magical power and ensorcelled blades.

Cities are much smaller than modern cities, with the largest comprising of only a couple of hundred thousand inhabitants, although this is vast indeed to the peoples of this world. The sprawling populaces are supported by a network of outlying farms, towns and villages, which provide food and wines, etc. Many village folk fear cities as inherently evil, and blame these places for their woes. A superstitious breed at the best of times, wandering adventurers are treated with extreme suspicion and sometimes outright hostility by the average villager, depending on their physical presence. A seven foot tall barbarian with a double-bladed waraxe will attract far less trouble than a puny-looking ranger! Villages have little or no choice when it comes to inns, taverns and blacksmiths. Usually, only one of each may be found, if at all. Local folk are always favoured over strangers, although gold coins can overcome many a socially awkward situation.
Townsfolk are generally more accommodating to adventurers on the whole, having seen a lot of strangers pass through their land and doing good trade on most of these. Items such as good quality armour are more likely to be found for sale, and there is always likely to be an Inn with empty rooms available somewhere. A town may consist of anything up to 15,000 inhabitants before it becomes known as a city. Invariably, towns are built around a water source such as a river, and thus most towns are connected to at least one other on the same waterway. Boats may be hired for journeys along the course of the river, usually for a set price per day altered according to risk involved and how much the boat owner thinks they can get away with. It is not unknown for a boatowner to enter into a deal with local pirates, whereby he or she tips off the hoodlums to his passengers, and a suitable spot is found along the route for a boarding action to happen, or for the pirates to sneak onboard when the boat is docked for the night, slit the throats of the passengers whilst they sleep, and split the proceeds with the boat owner.
Some stagecoach companies operate from towns to cities and vice versa, depending on the relative prosperity of both. Passengers are few, as no sane person would risk the moors at this time of night, young sir?

Armourer/smith
Jeweller
Tavern
Inn
Brothel
Fighting pits
Sundry bakers,etc
Gambling dens?
Brewery
Pharmacist/herbalist
Witch
Staging post
Defensive wall
Guard towers
Signal fires
Keep

Although at first glance, cities seem to be relatively free of the raiding hordes of demons that plague the smaller towns and villages, they are far from free of the influence of the Darkness. Corruption and politics generally go hand in hand, and local nobility may hold great influence over councillors and those in authority. Some dukes are in league with the Netherhells, having sold their souls in exchange for mortal power and wealth. Political or social opponents may find themselves the victims of terrible violence, whole families apparently being dismembered or sacrificed along with their serving staff to the Dark gods. Sometimes this happens behind locked doors and windows, and the mysteries are conveniently swept under the carpet by any investigating officers of the watch.
Merchants grow fat off such corruption, but pay out huge sums of wealth in order to maintain any nefarious supply practices or unpalatable ingredients in their world-famous pies. A merchant may live in a palace every bit as sumptuous as the king of his city, although their taxes may reflect this.
Cities are kept relatively safe at night by the presence of armed milita who patrol the defensive walls and towers of the city, always watchful for an incursion. Heavily armed and usually well-trained, these men (and occasionally women) are responsible for the safety of their fellow civilians and take this task seriously. Walls and towers are equipped with warning bells and signal fires, as well as heavy crossbows and cauldrons of boiling oil infused with leaves of religious texts and salt. You never can tell. Many attacks may actually come from below a city, where such a thing as a sewerage system has been built, or where the city has been built over a network of subterranean caves. Specialist teams of troops often known as Deadmen or Sewer Rats are employed to regularly patrol the underground. Often recruiting for new members, these are a good source of pay for the adventurer in need of a quick copper piece or two.
Since travel is an arduous task requiring much preparation and weaponry, people do not move about much and thus a certain degree of cultural isolation may exist in any given area of civilisation. The people of Deoraby call eggs ?eyrie? for instance, and many an enquiring adventurer has been assaulted after merely asking the barmaid for what they had thought was the word for some nuts but which turned out to be a sexual favour.

A typical bar:

Landlord ? a drunken red-faced buffoon called Derek, who molests his staff at every opportunity. Derek is in with all sorts of rough types and can be a plentiful if costly source of information regarding mysterious strangers, people whop might know something about it and the location of at least 5 different maps to san underground lair, 3 of which may be genuine, one of which is in fact a drawing made by one of his many nephews.

Barmaids ? Helga and Rose. Helga was pretty once but during her years as whore she was slashed with a knife that has left her with a scarred face. A sincerely kind word may relinquish much information that is actually helpful. Helga knows more about Derek?s business than he does and without her the bar would have closed long ago.
Rose is a brainless imbecile who giggles at everything that is said to her and will bed anyone who asks nicely and shows her a coin or two. She is riddled with diseases of an infectious nature and regularly has to see a local witch.

Rooms: there are three rooms available to travellers, all of which can accommodate up to five sleepers under cramped conditions. During the night the adventurers may be attacked by any one of a number of local terrors: press gangs, scum, beasts or worse.

Stables. There is a small stable out the back. It is here that the adventurers will lose any horse or other riding animal that they have not trained to kill.

The beer is watery but cheap. Foreign ales are available in a half-impressed fashion, and at expensive cost. Derek can?t remember buying them, which is probably because Helga did. Meals may be available. They are prepared by Mongo, a chef of indeterminate racial origin, who may well be some sort of Orc breed. His food looks, smells and tastes disgusting but is in fact juicy, nutritious and inedible to all but the hardiest palate. A barbarian would regard it as fine cuisine indeed, whilst an elf (assuming they had been talked into going inside the bar in the first place) will refuse to even handle the cutlery, although this consists of a single rusty knife to cut the cheese with. The cheese has a thick coating of mould. Derek assures them this is because it is foreign. Anyone consuming said cheese must take a fortitude test or be nauseous for 2d6 hours, and will have terrible breath and wind for the next d4 days. Some customers will snigger when the cheese is brought out, as it has been there for a year or more and no-one has yet managed to keep it down for more than a minute. If the cheese trick does not work, scrumpy will be brought forth. Consumption of this will cause nausea and blackouts for the next week. It is served in a wooden mug, as it corrodes the metal ones too quickly.

The Hordes of the Darkness

Dark Lords

The armies of The Nameless grow in strength with every act of brutality. For all the men slaughtered, every child devoured, even every orc slain, the power of light dims in the world and shadows creep forth. Chief amongst the races fallen into Darkness are Men. Weak of will and driven by avarice and a fear more terrible than any enemy?s wrath, humans succumb to their own evil nature far more readily than any other race in the world. The warlords, chieftains and warlocks that rule the many lairs beneath and above the earth are invariably human in origin, corrupted and seduced by the limitless power offered to them. Many bear the physical marks of their twisted minds as horns or clawed fingers, some have fallen further still and lost any resemblance to the proud men they once were. Still others have lost their physical forms entirely and exist only as wraiths, freezing cold mists of hatred, wrapped within the shell of their black armour and robes, seeking vengeance against a world that never saw their potential, screaming into the night from atop the gallows-bestrewn, unassailable towers of their fortresses.
Often these Lords of Darkness are armed with dire blades that can split a man in two with a thought, or shatter a mind with a diabolical spell bound into the blade itself. Their armour is festooned with barbs and spikes, and the heads of their favourite victims adorn their shields. They carry books bound in the living skin of babies, that contain the secrets of Hell itself. Their red eyes glow as embers from within their black helms, and from their outstretched hands spew blasts of power that destroy cities and armies in moments. To such men and women the notion of life is meaningless against the success of their ambition, all matters of morality a feeble waste of words spouted by the weak. All must bow their heads or be destroyed in the wake of the Dark Lord?s passing?

Demons

These are the mainstay of the Dark forces, and myriad in variety. Their numbers are legion, and they infest the shadowed places of the world. Nearly every village and town in the world has a curfew after nightfall, when demons may emerge from their underground lairs to pillage and kill. Some are more dangerous than others but all delight in the letting of blood.

Undead

In such times as these, the dead do not rest easily in their graves. The energies of the earth itself are corrupted by the demons that dwell below, and a cunning warlock versed in the black arts of necromancy may raise the very corpses his companions have slain to aid his schemes?

Necromancy

Necromancy enjoys something of an ambiguity in DoD compared to other systems. In DoD, all magic has great potential for evil and so none can be counted as truly noble. The greatest of healing spells rely on siphoning energy from one being to another, and can be used to kill. The raising of the dead is aligned squarely with all other magic in the eyes of the common peasant, as equally feared as any other sorcery. A necromancer may have purely noble intentions in his heart as he summons skeletons and zombies to fight against the Darkness, but with each rotting minion raised, he gathers darkness around himself, corrupting the forces of nature to achieve his aims.

Skeletons

The remains of heroes and monsters past litter the plains and dungeon floors alike.The flesh has long since decayed from the bones of these once mighty warriors, but still they may be called into service once more, the scattered components of their frames dancing and skittering across rooms and rising up to take arms against their foes, rusted shields held firm, a malevolence of purpose glowing redly in empty eye sockets. Howling screams, the shrieks of the long-dead, issue from their bony mouths as they charge into battle.

Skills: Immune to psychology
Weapons: single to heavy
Armour: none to heavy
Items: none (nicked by scallies long ago) except a champion (one magic item)

Zombies

The freshly dead may be called more easily into battle, but as their flesh dries out and stiffens, their movements become slow and sluggish compared to skeletons, whose bones are unhindered, animated by pure magic alone. Zombies however, have far more strength in their rotten cadavers, and can land a blow that smashes through stout wooden doors in their pursuit of their victims. The soul of the departed is confused and afraid, trapped within a body when they should be gone, looking out through their own eyes yet completely subordinate to the whim of the warlock who has brought them to this dread un-life. Dim whimpers and murmurs of horror escape through the putrid lips that hang limp from their jaws, the only sounds that can be made by the imprisoned zombie?s spirit?

Skills: Unstoppable, Inflict Brain Rot, Immune to Psychology
Weapons: none to heavy
Armour: none to heavy
Items: None to Single magic item, some gold

Ghouls

Although not undead, ghouls are often mistaken for such creatures. They are instead the deranged descendants of man, devolved and bestial in intent, finding sustenance and sport in the bodies of the freshly dead. Whole tribes of these foul creatures exist around the world, lurking near cemeteries and other burial sites, raiding charnel houses and consuming the flesh of both the dead and their living guards. They are ruled by fearsome ghoul kings whose armour and weapons are stolen from tombs or made from the skulls of their meals. Some say that ghouls are a form of lesser vampire, and that the bite of a ghoul inflicts a slow madness which imbues the hunger for flesh on the surviving victim, such that they may descend into the terrible madness of the ghouls and join their ranks, killing and eating their fellow adventurers one night whilst they sleep. The only cure for this is a rare potion made from the blood of a vegetarian?or something?

Skills: Frenzy, Inflict Disease
Weapons: Claws, teeth, Improvised up to Magic
Armour: None to very light, King has up to Heavy
Items: Amulets, Jewels, Crowns (all king only)

Wraiths

Sometimes the flow of darkness is so powerful within a warrior or warlock that it actually consumes the physical body, leaving an empty animated suit of armour or a robe, and the character becomes a wraith existing purely by will alone, their desire for revenge or justice so strong that they can deny Death Itself. A powerful necromancer can bind this dread spirit to his will, gaining a powerful minion indeed. The touch of a wraith absorbs the very warmth of life from their victims and their very presence in a room chills the soul and darkens the air. A Wraith Lord is something worse again, whose presence can be felt from a great distance, and for whom no amount of the slain will suffice to fill their need for retribution against the living.

Skills: Consume Life, Ethereal, Destroy Party Atmosphere
Weapons: Double handed, magic
Armour: None to heavy, magic
Items: Rings, Jewels, Crowns, etc

OGRES

Ogres in the world of Heresy are more intelligent than their traditional representation?but as a species they devote the use of this intelligence towards acts of violence! The advent of human civilisation has had a substantial effect on Ogres: in the wild they are comparatively more passive and will generally only attack when confident of victory (although this is usually judged by the size of their victim alone) or hungry and in search of a meal. When encountered in cities, Ogres are a different creature altogether. Their superior size and strength is obvious to all and sundry, and the ogre quickly learns to use this to their advantage. Malevolent and cunning, most Ogres throw their weight about in any and all social situations and derive great pleasure from inflicting terror and pain. Although some ogres are less volatile than others, they are always short tempered and must be treated with great caution if encountered within a dungeon or even a tavern! The most intelligent ogres are generally mercenary warriors, where they can put their tremendous physical resilience and strength to financial gain. As long as they are being paid and fed properly, an ogre will fight for anyone with gusto. They have no qualms about killing helpless victims if asked to, providing they get to eat the best bits afterwards. It is not wise to accept an offer of food from an ogre unless cannibalism appeals to the receptee. Nor is it wise to refuse an ogre something!
Occasionally, particularly successful mercenary ogres have been known to force their employers to provide them with tailored suits of armour in one form or another, and the best weapons money can buy. Such well-equipped ogres are formidable indeed, although thankfully uncommon?
The tenacity of an ogre when it comes to fighting is awe-inspiring. They have been known to keep fighting even when they should in fact fall over dead. Their nervous systems seem to register little in the way of pain, and as such they are almost unstoppable when enraged.

TROLLS

Trolls are ravenous beasts that lurk in the shadows of the world. Preferring damp, dark and humid conditions they are chiefly found near underground water sources such as rivers or stagnant pools. The moisture in the air helps keep their leathery hides supple, although trolls are an incredibly diverse species and have a vast ability to adapt to their environment. Individual trolls have been known to develop webbed fingers and toes to help them swim and thus catch fish more easily. In the frozen tundras of the far north, so-called Ice Trolls or Yeti (as they are known locally) are covered in thick hair that appears to change with the seasons to match the colours of their immediate surroundings, so that during the brief month or so when the ice recedes slightly, Yeti may become a mottled brown or green rather than their normal white. In harsher environments where temperatures soar. Trolls are rarely, if ever, encountered: but if they are encountered they will always be within hunting distance of some sort of water/moisture source.
Trolls have great regenerative capacity, and can heal terrible wounds in a very short time if allowed the opportunity to do so. Often areas of a troll?s skin that have regenerated in this way will harden and form a thick chitinous plate, preventing further injury to the same area. The troll already has many of these plates protecting its spine from rear attack, and an ancient troll that has survived many violent encounters with other beasts or adventurers may be almost entirely covered in such armour plating, making it a deadly foe indeed!
Female Trolls have a very strong bond with their offspring, and seem to fulfil a matriarchal role. Indeed until the young trolls mature and grow their own chitin, they may well stay within the female?s lair for up to a year. Often a female troll will have two or three male trolls as guardians, who bring food back to the lair. The female will not venture far from her territory without good reason. Troll females are more aggressive and intelligent than the males, and it is sometimes possible to establish a rudimentary form of communication with a troll. Orcs seem particularly able to come to an understanding with trolls, and these huge creatures can sometimes be seen fighting alongside orc raiding parties and armies. Food may be used as payment. Many a King or Queen has a troll imprisoned within their castle, and often these form a highly efficient disposal system for any would-be assassins or heroes that might displease the ruler. Disguised trapdoors open in the floor beneath the victims feet and invariably lead directly to the particular cavern containing the always-hungry troll.
Trolls will eat anything, and usually stink. They do not like fire and cannot regenerate burnt flesh at the same rate as normal. A severed limb may grow back within a week, but a burnt stump may take up to three years.No-one knows why this is the case, but most people are thankful for this weakness..
Trolls will often attempt to grab hold of a small enough opponent and bite their victim?s head off as a form of attack. They may also spew forth the incredibly acidic contents of their quintuple stomachs. This vile extrusion can melt through almost anything except magic armour and weapons, and diamonds. Trolls ordinarily use this regurgitation as a means of feeding their young.

The Slithi (or Slith) aka Snakemen or Reptilians

Slithi are snakemen, diabolical offspring descended from the Netherlord Medusa, whose own snakelike body was given her by the King of Demons when she swore allegiance to Him. Slithi seem as giant humanoid snakes, (or lizards or other reptiles), with a pair of powerful arms ending in three fingered (inc thumb) hands. There are different breeds of Slith, with different abilities regarding their methods of combat. Some can spit poison from muscular toxin sacs at the root of their fangs, some have a mesmeric stare that allows them to bite their victim at will. Some snakemen have humanoid legs, others have snake like lower bodies.
Slithi society is caste-based. The lowest in their eyes are those who seem more human than snake. Such hssanti are usually female and slight of build, and are used as ambassadors or negotiators, or more commonly as servants (especially if male). Their more agreeable features bely their venomous hearts, for they are invariably utterly dedicated to the cause of the Slith despite their place in its structure.
Slithi warriors are known as hhkassi (a heavy emphasis on the hh and ss in Slithi language, due to difficulty with lips) and form the mainstay of the guards in a Slith Lair. They use a heavy falchion or kopesh and shield and wear light armour. Royal bodyguard are known as hkobri or Cobra Guard. They have hooded heads and wear heavy armour that covers their entire body in an intricate, ingenious system of linked armour plates which still allows them to move at speed using their snake bodies. They are usually armed with halberds or glaives, may spit a paralysing poison at their enemies that causes temporary blindness also.
Bows are used extensively. The slith employ their natural venom to great effect here. Each slith may anoint their arrows with venom from their own poison sacs. An especially deadly missile takes the form of an arrow tipped with a glass phial containing the venom of the most poisonous of all Slithi, the Slithi Queen. This glass container shatters on impact - in the case of cloth or skin the jagged edge of the remaining glass on the arrow drives forward into the victims belly delivering the poison directly into the innards; with hardened armour the poison and shards spray outwards and can still easily penetrate eyes and mouths. Hhkassi will often target those victims who seem to be shouting a lot in the hopes of hitting them in the mouth in such a way.

The priesthood of the Slithi are its leaders, females taking prime roles within the inner circles, males composing the outer circles. Male priests are responsible for the ceremonies and rituals of worship dedicated to Medusa. The Slithi are ruled by the Slith Queen of that lair, who will closely resemble Medusa herself, even to the extent that they may have an extra set of arms and, although this is especially rare, a head of snakes instead of hair. This is seen as a blessing upon those who follow such a queen. A Slithi queen may use a Petrify attack to turn victims to stone. Those who cannot avoid her gaze must make a magic save or suffer a cold eternity as a court decoration.

Within the very heart of a large Slith city can be found a temple where the Queen and her high priests may commune with their god: the Fallen One who rules them in Medusa's name. In long established cities, the Queen herself may be a Fallen One, in which case she must spend all of her time within the unsacred confines of the Dark Temple.

Slithi raid neighbouring settlements for worthy sacrifices to Medusa: human infants are particularly relished, or pregnant women.

Dark elves
Kobolds
The Slith (Snakemen)
Ferals
Troglodytes
Lizardmen
Scallies
Evil Dwarves
Rat demons

Minotaurs

Minotaurs are cursed creatures, whose ancestors worshipped the King of Demons in the form of debauched orgies of animal abuse and drug consumption. Such were their vile excesses that the offspring of the cattle were part bull, part human, who turned upon their own parents and ripped them limb from limb when grown. Minotaurs prefer solitary places away from other races, and fly into frenzies of bloodlust when encountered. They may act as a guardian to a sacred/unholy shrine or simply defend a territory. They prefer labyrinth cave complexes where they can hunt their prey by luring them in and getting them lost. Minotaurs use simple weapons if at all, preferring brute force to subtlety. Heavy axes and clubs are usual. A minotaur may well own magic weapons in a hoard of treasure accrued from years of consuming adventurers. Equally they may own armour or similar items too, often still occupied by rotted limbs.

Trolls
Ogres
Harpies
Formless beasts
Vampires

Centaurs
Giants
Dragons
Griffons
Pegasi
Elementals
Angels
Genies

Forest Elementals (treemen)
Forest Elves
Halflings scattered communities living in men towns villages, cities. Half darkness rating as resistant to evil
Elves Base Darkness<1000= -300 to score. Base darkness>1000 = +200 to their score. Elves will resist the dark longer than men, but when they fall, they fall quickly.
Gnomes

Elves
The race known to the world as elves are, as a general species, incomparably snobbish, self-serving and rude. They count themselves above all other races and the most common reason for an elf to join a party of adventurers is an attempt on their behalf to better educate the lowly types. Even the name ?elf? is taken from an ancient human tribe-word meaning ?betters? or ?elite?, though this has long been forgotten by all except the elves themselves.
However to say that all elves are alike is as incorrect as to say that all humans are alike. Whilst the majority of elves are callous and arrogant in their dealings with other races, amongst their own kind these same elves are as capable of acts of generosity as any other race. Wives and husbands are cherished for life, and since elves are extraordinarily long-lived this partnership is one that will be kept for many hundred years. Elves enjoy sophisticated humour, poetry and song, and scathing political satire. Their poets and bards are held in high esteem in elven civilisation and are granted a unique license to mock established customs, laws and even rulers, providing it is done in a constructive manner. To hear an elf-song is to be lost in a world of heart-seering emotions and many men (even the occasional dwarf) have been heard to mutter that they should never again know true happiness or utter despair unless they were to listen to that song again.

There are however, a few different ?species? of elf?

Feral Elves, also known as Forest, Savage, Jungle, or Wild Elves. These elves are usually encountered deep within the forests and jungles of the world. Their culture has a tribal feel to it, their equipment is a combination of primitive methods and innate elven art. Flints spears and axes are common, as are bows made from animal bones or horns, or even grown from the trees themselves using elven magics. Shields are made of twisted branches covered with cured and toughened animal hides. Feral Elves use elemental magic, although only their shamans may do so. Shamans are revered by the tribes in a similar way that the Feral beastmen pay their Broodmothers due reverence. The shaman however is an active participant in any discussions of the tribe?s future, and will oversee any important events such as the proper slaughter of those who invade the tribe?s territory (often in the hope of enlisting the help of the elves) or religious observances.

Plains Elves
These Elves are possibly the True Elves of legend, and seem to effortlessly be at one with their environment. They live in semi-nomadic tribal communities that migrate around the Great Plains of the West, following the herds of abidahs who provide their food and clothing. They live within teepees dress in tailored animal leathers and may wear feathered headdresses. Tribal chieftains lead a council of elders, all of whom have specific coloured feathers in their magnificent head-dresses and are incredibly calm in their dealings with others unless some ancient lore is broken. In such cases a War-party may be called forth.

Dwarves
When humans were still clubbing each other with bones, Elves were composing tragic operas but Dwarves were investigating the possibilities of expanding mineshaft number 34. The dwarf race has always lived below rock, whether this is a subterranean mine or a lofty mountain stronghold carved from the cliff-face. For thousands of years they have done every possible action possible that involved minerals and as a result have discovered many incredible, miraculous things. They are an intensely practical race, who long ago looked to themselves rather than gods for their answers. To a dwarf, a terrifying religious statue depicting a demon or god is simply an interesting rock formation. Invention and improvisation are a way of life for dwarves, who must battle against the horrors below the world every day of their lives and seek their weaponry and even their entertainment from their main natural resource ? the minerals and ores they mine from the earth.
Other races know little or nothing of the true extent of dwarven advancement. They may overhear the occasional muttering under a dwarf?s breath or perhaps a conversation through an open window or ajar door, but little sense can be made of the words. For one, the dwarfs speak in their own almost incomprehensible dialect, a rapid, melodic accent that few from the human or elven lands can understand. Most races believe the dwarfs speak of their gods, whose names are ?Syense? and ?N?Djinn?
and take what the dwarfs know to be simple tools as mighty items of arcane magic. The dwarfs encourage this misunderstanding and take great delight and amusement by referring to their equipment in melodramatic terms: they see all magic as a reckless use of uncontrolled energy, although they do make use of powerful runes forged from crystal and silicone that can adapt the natural magic of the world to specific uses.
Dwarf Runemasters apply their knowledge to such arcane items as the Dragonseeker missile, where the projectile will be granted the magical ability to follow the heat given off by the internal fires of a dragon in flight until either it runs out of fuel or collides with the target and explodes, or the Device of Alarming Screams, which may be affixed to a doorjamb and will sound a piercing noise when anyone passes within range, alerting the dwarf owner to the presence of an intruder.
To a dwarf, a Shotgun is a device that is very useful in the confined spaces of a mining shaft for fighting off multiple scurrying opponents or even giving a troll second thoughts. As far as the other races are concerned, the Dwarves will refer to it as a Boomstick, or even a Rod of Thunder, or whatever else takes their humourous whim. Keeping a straight face is not always possible and the other races are often left bemused by a red-faced dwarf wiggling its fingers at them and making scary ghost noises whilst telling them ?How does it work? It?s powered by MAGIC! OOooOOOooo!!!?
Although most dwarfs encountered outside their own cities are of the inquisitive, wandering kind, who seek answers to questions they don?t yet know (Such as ?Just how much gold will I have to find before I?ll be content??) and are always thinking of the next useful device to make, some are more traditional dwarfs, for whom there will never be a replacement for the axe and shield and to whom this whole obsession with battery power and gunpowder is merely another passing fad which will be done with in another hundred years or so. Such dwarfs find the inventors and engineers of their kin intensely irritating to be around, and vice versa, although they will have no problems defending each other against non-dwarf aggression in any form, but particularly elvish forms. Elves find the constant patronising of the dwarves extremely annoying and what?s more, patronisation is their approach to other races, and to have it used against them is irksome in the extreme. Elves seek to belittle (No pun intended) the dwarves at every opportunity, especially since they suspect that the dwarven gods might be almost as powerful as their own High Magic.
Dwarves generally refer (in an inexplicably affectionate manner) to other races by nicknames: to most human races as ?Longlegs? or ?lankies?, to elves as ?buggerlugs? or ?pixies? (this has been known to cause more than one war, at least two of which were with actual pixies. The second war was rather quickly settled when the dwarfs invented flamethrowers to combat the massed airborne armies of winged pixies), to orcs as ?stinkies? or ?grunters? and to gnomes as ?shortarses?.

Encountered:
Dwarfs have their own communities established in most of the larger human ports and cities, and even in the smaller towns there is often a dwarf craftsman with a store that sells one class of goods to the ?longlegs?, and an entirely different and higher quality class of goods to the dwarfs. There is no better armourer than a dwarf although how they manage to get such intricate designs on the weaponry and armour they manufacture is unknown. Some say the dwarfs make sacrifices to their god, ?Cadd?, the god of design.

Typical Dwarf names: Dwarfs have a Scottish-sounding first name and a clan name which is basically Scandinavian with a Mac.

Dougal McGrimm
Callum MacSwensonnson
Archibald McJorgesson

Dwarves and the Darkness:

Dwarves succumb to the darkness much as men do ? their self-involvement and thirst for knowledge often is their downfall. The most terrible of the Dark Lords is the Dwarf Vadurr. His knowledge of arcane science was the greatest of the dwarfs but when he swore allegiance to the Netherlords he was granted knowledge of an even more terrible nature. His body, corrupted by the power of the King of Demons, is now partly made of the very metals he lived his life forging into new shapes. He is the master of dark magicks and he carries a sword whose blade may be summoned or extinguished at will, a terrible arc of red magical fire that slices through any substance, magical or otherwise?

Men of the North
Men of the South
Men of the East
Men of the West
Paladins
Rangers

Warlocks
Sorcerors
Wizards
Cultists
Clerics
Witchhunters

Gnurds

Vast Elephant like creatures that are used to cross the plains and deserts that lie between various kingdoms. Gnurd Riders are usually fairly isolated charcters who have no real concept of socialisation and interaction between humans, spending their entire lives worrying about gnurds, in particular their health and diet, and whether the beasts are about to go berserk and trample everything in sight. Gnurds are often fitted with huge wooden palisades to carry paying passengers across the plains in relative safety from predators. Some gnurd palisades are even fitted with bedding and toilet areas for long journeys where passengers might be expected to dspend days aboard the creature.

Experience & Skills

Firstly, I want the system to be a gradual one, so that it rewards those who persevere with their characters and doesn't lead to instant-superhero types. The big prob with warhammer quest for instance is that you get to level 10 within a few games and suddenly nothings a challenge anymore.

I reckon, as a rough estimate, that awarding 1 point of XP (Experience Point) per appropriate skill use is going to be the best way forward. I want to have somethign that makes people use their characters the way those characters would work. So a barbarian would be big on the smashing and chopping, and gain skills or stat advances appropriate to that, whereas a wizard would grow in magical power and intelligence. This idea works fine until you get to the 'middle ground' characters such as the thief, whose main usefulness down the dungeon is in picking locks and disarming traps, but who really needs to be able to defend himself too. What I don't want to happen is for the thief to pick 20 locks and then spend the xp on his fighting stats or what have you.
My plan was to have 100xp tradeable for a single point of stat increase, or a skill increase. but the alternative is to save xp to get character level increases, and thus buy skills/stats in lumps. say 1000xp per level, thus giving you up to 10 stat increases and /or skills. In fact i'd probably limit the skill acquirements to say, 5 per level? Thinking out loud here....

So, the best thing i can think of is to create 'groups' of skills and/or stats appropriate to each character type and say that these skills earn more xp for their use than those not specified for that character. The only problem is this does seem to complicate things and require you to keep track of what is used when for your character.

The eternal background

IN the beginning, there was the Supreme Being, the Creator.
The Supreme Being looked out upon the blank canvas of eternity and created two servants. The first servant was Light. Light was beautiful and elegant, composed of all that would be positive and good in the universe to come. After the Light came the Darkness. For a while, peace reigned in the universe but then the Darkness grew to hate the Light for its beauty and grace and fear it for its wisdom. The Light in turn pitied the Darkness for its shadows and despair. Over the aeons, the two beings argued and fought, each claiming to be the greater power in the universe and striving to prove their superiority to the Supreme Being.
Eventually, they decided to settle their argument.
Between them, the Light and the Darkness created the rest of the universe and in particular, they created the three planes of existence ? Paradise, the Netherworld and the mortal world.
Upon this last world, their favourite, the Darkness and Light decided that their battle would be resolved.
Into this world, Light and Darkness created a new entity: Life. Life gave birth to the details of the mortal world, to plants and animals. Over a million years or more, the world was prepared for the coming War.
The Light created Archangels and the Darkness spawned Demonlords. Demi-gods in their own right, these beings fought one another for ten thousand years while around them the world upon which they stood cooled and changed. After ten thousand years, the Demonlords were finally cast down and their bones buried in the stone roots of the world. Darkness, howling in rage with its armies defeated was cast down from the realm of Heaven. With Darkness banished to the Netherhells in the depths of the earth, Light filled the sky itself. Never again would it be worthy of notice by the Creator.
The Archangels, of whom only thirteen survived, rejoiced in their victory and gave thanks to the Light. They each created the first tribes of the Eradrim in their own images and instructed them in the ways of Life and the celebration of the Light. (Although generally humanoid in appearance , the various tribes were physically different ? they are known now as humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes and halflings but in that time they were all simply the Eradrim, a name meaning Creatures of the Earth in the celestial tongue. Each Archangel created several tribes of the various Eradrim throughout the mortal lands) Mankind multiplied and was strong. The tribes were united in their praise of the Light and gave thanks to the Supreme Creator. The early Eradrim gave names to the Light they worshipped, knowing it by many different names (such as the Lord of the Host) and yet to the Darkness that they reviled, they gave nothing other than the title King of Demons. They named the realms of the two gods, calling them Heaven and Hell, but also knowing them by other names specific to each tribe, such as Valhalla and Hades, Elysium and the Netherhells.
For hundreds of years, Darkness brooded upon its defeat. It plotted to gain revenge. Eventually, it called out from its prison and begged forgiveness from the Light. It bowed to the Light?s greater power and swore to serve it for all eternity. It most humbly asked that it be released from its tomb beneath the earth. Light agreed that the Darkness might be released and share the world of the Eradrim. The Archangels thought that perhaps this was not wise, as they did not trust the Darkness, but the Creator, who loved all his creations equally, had spoken. Darkness was granted freedom from the underworld for a few hours each day. Light sent the sun around the world in a great circle, and wherever its rays shone down, the Darkness was forbidden to exist. The Archangels feared that they would not be able to defeat the Darkness itself should the War begin again but Darkness came to each of them and assured them it bore no ill will towards its former enemies. It was merely content to run relatively free in the world.
But in the hours of Darkness, which the Eradrim called night; Darkness began to put its plan of revenge in to action. It appeared to the Eradrim in their dreams and spoke to their hearts. It whispered of greed and power, and of the greatness of the dreamers. Soon wars came to the world of the Eradrim and the tribes fought against each other. Darkness had fashioned a new entity from the minds of mortals: Death.
The Archangels could not understand what was wrong. They formed a council to discuss the problems but could not agree where it should be held. The poisonous words of Darkness that had infested the hearts of the Eradrim were now reaching their angelic fathers and the Thirteen were stricken with arguments. In their moments of weakness, Darkness came before them one by one and spoke to them, playing on their new fears and corrupting their pure hearts. To every one of the thirteen he made an offer. It promised them that their own tribes of Eradrim would be safe from Death if only they agreed to follow the rule of Darkness and showed them how the world of Eradrim would rot thanks to the Light?s neglect. It cajoled and manipulated the Thirteen until all but one had foresworn the Light and agreed to submit to the rule of the King of Demons. The thirteenth Archangel was known to the Eradrim as Gabriel, the Guardian of the Sun and most powerful of all the Archangels. Of all the tribes of Eradrim, his alone had proved all but impossible to corrupt. His will was strong and noble and he railed against his brothers and sisters for betraying the Light. In his righteous anger he cursed the other Archangels and in this moment their physical forms were forever altered to reflect the corruption in their hearts. The curse was so powerful that the tribes of humans, dwarves, gnomes, halflings and elves whom each of the twelve had sired were also afflicted.
Every man, woman and child who had not rejected the Darkness in their hearts suffered the same fate as their Archangel parents. Twisted and horrifying to look upon, the Twelve bellowed with shame and anger even as their children shed their outer fleshy shells and became the fallen races. Darkness owned them all, body and soul, now and the twelve former servants of Heaven became the Netherlords, most evil and formidable of Hell?s generals. Darkness bellowed with laughter, as his new servants struck down Gabriel, slashing his flesh and breaking his bones. Still Gabriel would not acknowledge darkness as his new Master. From spite, Darkness spat upon the world and created new demons to roam the lands and consume the tribes of Eradrim that had not fallen. Hundreds of Eradrim died in their fangs and claws and yet Gabriel would not relent. Darkness impaled the Archangel upon a mountain and tore out his heart, promising that he would torture Gabriel for all eternity until he relented, but Gabriel would not turn from the Light and refused to die. In fact, it was now that the Creator intervened for the only time in the course of the War. Even as Gabriel felt his strength finally fading, the Sun rose. Light flooded into the world, and with it the Guardian of The Sun was reborn in fire and glory. Seeing that the few remaining true Eradrim were doomed unless Darkness was once more banished, and that the might of the angels might possibly be turned against the tribes of Eradrim, the Creator commanded Gabriel to use all of his remaining power to forge the Great Lore. He physically banished the forces of Darkness to the Netherhells beneath the earth, to the very caverns formed by the rotting bodies and fossilised bones of the fallen Demonlords he had destroyed millennia previously. Demons were exiled, banished from the mortal plane. To ensure the continuance of the human race, the Lore also banished the angelic host from the same plane. The Creator did not want his servants to destroy each other, yet it seemed that they were set upon doing so at the cost of the life they had in turn created.

As the Great Lore finally took hold upon the three planes of existence, Gabriel?s strength ebbed and in the final moments, the spell was not completed correctly.
For Death existed still upon the mortal plane. The Humans, Elves, Gnomes, Halflings and Dwarves that had survived the Fall of the Eradrim could still succumb to injuries or disease or old age. Hybrid creatures formed from the demons that had ravaged the land, crossed with the existing animal life, still stalked the countries of the world and hunted the tribes and each other.
Small areas of the mortal world still throbbed with leaking magical energy from Heaven and Hell, portals to the other planes of existence, through which a creature could step and travel. These areas would become sites of worship for the followers of the Eternal Enemies, churches, shrines and great temples would be built upon their locations and here Angels and Demons could tread the earth still.
With his final gasp of energy, Gabriel, the Thirteenth, opened the earth up and it swallowed the King of Demons, the Netherlords and himself, closing upon them all and sealing them in the underworld. Darkness The King of Demons howled with tormented anger but to no avail. He was trapped until the lore could be undone. He knew that Gabriel was the key, for if Gabriel could be turned, then the races of Eradrim who descended from him would also fall and the Great Lore would be shattered. The pure demons would be free to roam the lands again and consume the souls of the mortal plane?s inhabitants. The armies of Darkness would triumph over the accursed Host. To corrupt Gabriel would require the corruption of his children, the Eradrim of the Sun. Knowing this, the Host adopted a similar plan, to lead Eradrim to the righteous path through the same means of dreams and visions and visitations. Angels and demons alike were forbidden to trespass openly in the worlds of the Eradrim. Only within the confines of temples and other holy grounds could the celestial and infernal beings tread and take physical form. Only within dreams and visions could either of the two sides speak to the mind of an Eradrim. Mankind and the fallen races were utterly alone, for the first time in their existence able to choose their own destiny.
The Light sought to save them and needs the worthiest of the descendants of the original Eradrim to fill out its armies. With the loss of the Archangels, Hell?s armies were for the first time stronger even than those of Heaven. But for the Great Lore binding them beneath the world, they would surely have triumphed that day.
Light and Darkness, the King of Heaven and the King of Demons, mused on this.
Without their armies, the War was now to be fought with the souls of the uncorrupted Eradrim and the fallen races. Darkness knew that if it could break the will of Gabriel, the Lore would fail and it could corrupt the remaining human beings. Then the world would fall to it. and the armies of Hell would be free to war against Heaven.
But Gabriel has not died, and his will has not been broken. For ten thousand years and more, the Thirteenth Archangel has endured all the tortures of hell that the King of Demons could devise, bound to a cruciform rack forged from the superheated metals of the earth?s core. Every moment he endures pain and suffering beyond mere description because he knows that if he falls, then the War would be lost. And yet every day his strength is fading imperceptibly. Who knows how much longer the Guardian of the Sun can resist?
Light and Darkness let the remaining races prosper, all the while watching for signs that the descendants of the Eradrim would choose which of the two beings was greatest after all. Light believed that the noble hearts of the remaining Eradrim would shine through and that in their goodness, they would prove that the Light was the true power in the universe. Darkness knew that the wickedness of Mankind would confirm its own ascendancy over Light.
However, the many different races did not follow a single path. In every species, which over time have grown apart and thus become no longer true Eradrim but Men, Elves and suchlike in their own right, individual souls were indeed noble and true, whilst others were base, evil creatures. Although there is a general tendency amongst the species as a whole, they are all fickle mortal creatures who can change their destinies at whim. Yet for every thousand mortals who do not choose to side with Light or Darkness, there are single champions that do.
These mortals are eventually ? having proven their worth over many years of servitude - elevated by their patrons, becoming part-mortal, part-demonic or part-angelic champions. Most terrible of the servants of Heaven and Hell, these are the Ascended and the Fallen, possessed of immense otherworldly powers and the ability to roam the lands in the guise of the mortal men and women they once were. Only in their true forms are they subject to the restrictions of the Great Lore, binding them to their sacred or unholy temple throne rooms. Most of these champions are human but their numbers include the other races too.

Of the fate of the race of Eradrim who were Gabriel?s own children, not much is known. They were called the Paladins, and being the last True Eradrim they shared in some tiny fraction of Gabriel?s power. Through the intervening centuries, the bloodline has become scattered and thinned, mainly through out the kingdoms of Men, some in the lands of the elves, few in the other races.
Sometimes a child is born with great powers of wisdom or strength. They fight for what seems to them to be right for no reason they can understand. When their village is attacked by the part-demon breeds that plague the hills, what would normally be a helpless child may find themselves leading the defence, slaughtering monsters that a grown man would run from. Such children are the descendants of the true paladins. Eventually, an older paladin knight will seek them out and inform them of their true purpose ? to use their powers in the fight against evil. To go into the darkness beneath the world and destroy demons. To find and rescue the thirteenth Archangel.

The world as it stands today consists of many hundreds of kingdoms of different sizes and wealth. Some of them war with their neighbours. Some of them are ruled by wise and caring kings or queens, others by tyrants or madmen.
All are surrounded by vast plains, mountain ranges and deserts, in which terrifying creatures thrive. Some kingdoms are in fact the source of such monsters. The snakemen of the southern realms for instance, command several vast temple cities and war upon the neighbouring kingdoms for sacrifices to their dark goddess-mistress. There are tribes of orc mercenaries who control many a mountain pass and demand heavy tolls to allow merchants to travel in their territory. These and many more kingdoms provide ample opportunity for players to indulge themselves in a spot of adventuring for fun or profit!

In Netherhells, you as the Gamesmaster control the forces of Darkness, (or Light,) as you see fit. The players represent a group (usually motley) of adventurers from the different races suitable to work together. To begin with it is best to pit yourself as Darkness against the players using some of the nobler races as adventurers. This includes humans, elves, dwarves and halflings (until the rules are better worked out!) You have the option of playing the Big Picture, which is the battle between a group of heroes led by a paladin, against the forces of Darkness, or taking in the Little Details, which is to say a bunch of adventurers perhaps simply looking to make a lot of money for themselves by fighting for financial rewards and raiding the odd lair or two to rob the bad guys of some treasure. It?s your choice; the information given so far is simply to set the overall scene, one of monstrous creatures and dark dungeons ruled by would-be champions of Hell or wealth-hungry warlords. For the moment it is better to set simple dungeon-bash plots in order to test the rules and make sure t
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Cheddarmonger:
that's beautiful, brings a tear to the eye!

Thanks for sharing!  It would be nice to have a files section...

Squirrel:
Well done Ink :P  I only had it as a print out, and it would have taken me a year to type in using my hyperspeed single finger typing system :lol:

Ben Brownlie:
Why have the frames gone skewed?

Baggers:

--- Quote from: Ben Brownlie ---Why have the frames gone skewed?
--- End quote ---


Sods law.

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