There was a large bulge in the skunkette lamia's thickest coil. Without a doubt the skunk-snake had swallowed a humanoid, and one of fair size; from the bulge of the head, past the widening of the shoulders and down the body eventually to the legs and feet, the bulge was close to seven feet long. Her meal had been swallowed head first, as the head-bulge was closer to the lamia's fluffy skunk tail than the rest.Uvuzi was partly coiled up on the wood floor, the bulge of swallowed prey to the fron

"Don't bother druids," the bartender said when Kalina asked. "That's what I say. That lot doesn't like uninvited visitors.”But Kalina was impatient. All she needed was a herbal poultice. A druid could whip it up in minutes and she could head back to the gods-forsaken hovel that sent her to get it. It was one thing after another, running errands for these little villages. She wanted to get this one checked off the list, collect her reward and move on. She didn't have time to wait for some for

Uvuzi's property in Monstertown, like its owner, is deeper than it is wide. Streetfront is at a premium so the portico in front of her door is only forty feet across, while the lot is twice that in depth. The front half of the lot is tiled, with the house at the back and a substantial second story balcony shading a good part of the portico. The absence of furniture leaves plenty of smooth clean tiles where Uvuzi the skunkette lamia practices her dancing. This usually draws a crowd in front of he

Bartleby the badger is accustomed to being flirted with. Bartleby is a big, feral, talking badger. A measuring tape stretched from his wet black nose to the tip of his tail-spine would reach more than seven feet, with at least a foot of tailfur reaching past that. His shaggy gray flank-fur spreads out when he sprawls on the floor, making him resemble a furry rug, but under that fur he is powerfully muscled. His forepaws sport claws as long as a man's hand and his thick forelegs are armored by ir

Uragh's original plan was to take a trip to the City of Greyhawk, visit the wizard he'd been told about, then head right back to his usual haunts west of Verbobonc. That was not how it worked out.First he met Shinefeather the gryphon and Captain Varr, two new lovers, and decided to linger in the area at least until Shinefeather's heat passed. The opportunity to empty his balls into the gryphoness several times a day was not one a healthy young feral gul would pass up, and every month or two he k

There were four of them, plus the prisoner. The lieutenant, whose tabard bore the three-towered castle symbol of the City of Greyhawk, and three lower ranked guardsmen with halberds. They were marching their prisoner along one of the trade trails outside the city when the lieutenant suddenly looked up and waved."Sid," muttered the one with the corporal's insignia, "What are you doing?""Saving us some effort," the lieutenant said just as quietly. He waved again and the gryphon overhead tilted a w

His name was Hsist, a good lizardy name, which stood to reason because Hsist was a lizard man. He was young and on the small side, only about five feet tall. Between inexperience and being seen as weak, he hadn't been accepted into any gangs. The river has full of lizards, as the saying went, but most of them were content to fish and trade with the shore dwellers.The real money was to be made in the pirate gangs, the boldest of which swarmed up onto passing river traders and overpowered the crew

Her name was Shinefeather, and she was a gryphon female with dark gold wings that reflected a shimmer when the sun was just right. Her head plumage was the same, her beak was orange-gold, and her body fur was a lighter shade of tan with a still lighter underbelly. Shinefeather, like all her kind, looked as though a giant eagle had a little too much to drink and ended up in bed with a lioness. Maybe that's how it happened, with a little 'love spring' action mixed in. Gryphons have been around for

The next morning, having had a pleasant afternoon and even better evening in town, Uragh trotted back out of Verbobonc's west gate and made his way to the caravansary. This time he wasn't stopped at the entry, though it was a different set of guards on duty. Maybe they spotted the sticker on his gambeson as he loped towards them, but more likely they'd just been told about him. "Big feral wolverine in a red gambeson" could only really describe one person hereabouts, after all.They'd been told ab

The west gate of Verbobonc is one of the three main trade gates for the city. East, West and the Port is considered the third. Enough trade passed down the roads to the east and west gates that a major caravansary existed just south of the city.Traffic from either direction stopped here, it serving as a staging ground for cargo and keeping the bulk of the oxen and other draft animals out of the city.The caravansary had its defenses but it was easier to get permission to go in or out than it was

His name was Gavis Trent. He was the third son of a rich merchant family and a minor noble in his own right. He certainly thought of himself as one. He had more money than sense and liked to fight. His father sent him off to a military boarding school to try to instill some discipline in him, but while the training turned him into a decent swordman it didn't curb his ego.At twenty years old he returned from the school, was given a position in the family business, and went back to making trouble.

His name was Jemiah and he was a thief. A burglar, a mugger, call him what you will. He travelled around the Wild Coast with caravans, claiming to be on his way to visit a made-up relative in a distant town. Travelling as a caravan guard meant he might have to fight and saying he was a tradesman meant he might have to actually work, so he was always “just on his way somewhere.” He spent as little money as possible and looked for his next easy mark. Tonight he thought he'd found one.For some

Out of the frying pan
By StregaThe cave is large, fifty paces long and almost as wide, with a ceiling that peaks at over thirty feet. It has to be big; even the smaller of the two creatures who lives here is enormous.The foxtaur stands over seven feet at the haunches and if you include his humanoid upper half and tall, upright ears he'd bump into a sixteen-foot-high ceiling. His fluffy tail is a dozen or more feet long and bigger by itself than half a dozen humans, his four legs almost wolf-t

There was a cell, and in the cell there was an elf.He was a very unhappy elf. He lay on a rough straw mat, ankles bound with leather cord and arms strapped behind him with more of the same. If he struggled hard he could force himself unsteadily to his feet and hop around the cell. There was little to see and nowhere to go. The cell was eight by ten feet, windowless stone on there sides and iron bars on the other. All he'd been left to wear besides his bindings was a hide loincloth.Past the iron

It was Godsday, which happened to be Bartleby's day off from two of his jobs, when Clara showed up.He was eating breakfast in the inn's common room when she walked in. Without so much as a by-your-leave she slid herself onto the bench seat opposite him in the booth.He looked up from his bowl of porridge and smiled a toothy smile. She smiled back. They were a mismatched pair, the seven-feet-tall-on-his-hindpaws feral badger and the little human woman, who might reach five feet if she stood on her

A little before sunrise, in the city of Verbobonc, a badger trotted down a wooden sidewalk.He was a very big badger, about seven feet from wet black nose to rump, with another couple of feet of furry tail past that. His flank fur was so long he resembled a massive, furry turtle. Claws as long as a man's hand clicked on the boards as he trotted along. In no particular hurry, but clearly with someplace to be, he crossed one street and then another. The badger was mostly gray-furred as seen from ab

Near the town of Adelburg in Five Villages County, up atop a grassy hill, stood what the townspeople called the Old Tower. It had stood there since long before the first of the villages was founded. The mossy stones of the tower blended into the backdrop of taller and equally green hills. Only when the clouds rolled in behind would it stand out, little more than a mile from the outermost farms.

A well worn foot trail led to the tower, for the villagers well knew its solitary inhabitant. On

The rat froze.The door at the top of the staircase swung wide, and something came down the stone steps on four long-clawed paws. A glimmer of light showed from the doorway, then the four-legged beast pushed the door shut with its rump and there was still less. The rat pressed itself against the wall. Better to be passed by while silent then to alert the beast with movement.Unfortunately something alerted the beast to the rat's presence. Perhaps a whisker brushed his furry back as the muzzle went

On Market Street, deep into the night, there was a fire.Fire is not a stranger to cities like Verbobonc. While the businesses, houses and other structures are built of stone, the timbers and inner floors are universally of wood. Some buildings are topped with tiles or lead sheets, others have wood shake or even thatch roofs, but the interior is always flammable. Though the stone of the building might survive, it is just a burned-out shell once the fire is done.Thus each of the taller city wall t

You
never wanted to be a bandit. You didn't want to be a soldier either,
and faced with four year's mandatory service once you hit 18, you
decided running is a better option. Raised on tales of wandering
heroes winning fortunes from dragon's lairs and forgotten crypts, you
set out to be an adventurer.
You
don't tell your family. They wouldn't approve. You leave the little
city-state you were born in and wander. There's a lot of wilderness,
not many towns. The nearest real city is weeks away, at

The villagers
wouldn't say much about the tower. Just the same, you learned a fair
bit by dressing up as an out-of-town farmer and simply listening.
What you knew
from distant rumors: an old, run down stone tower, formerly the home
of a small religious order. Supposedly the clerics are long gone,
leaving some sort of guardian and, if the rumors could be trusted, a
religious relic or two.
Relics fetch
good money. You sit hunched over your cups in the inn, pretending not
to listen. That's how you

A
visit with a dragon
By
Strega
On
Mill Street in Greyston was a house like many others. Every foot of
streetfront cost, so the house was narrow, but deep, with a tiled
portico sporting a few chairs. The second floor was set slightly
back, and the addition of an overhang allowed for a wide balcony
better furnished than the portico. From here a ramp led up to a
rooftop garden, at one end of which sat a sunroom.
Tiktik
the kobold was sweeping the balcony when he heard the thunder of
wings. Tall

Dire
Anteater
Size/type:
Large Magical BeastHit
Dice: 5d10+15
(42 HP)Initiative:
+1Speed:
20 feet (4 squares) climb 20 feetArmor
class: 16
(-1 size, +1 Dex, +6 natural), touch 9, flat-footed 15Base
attack/Grapple:
+5/+17Attack:
claw 1d8+4 +9 melee or tongue +9 melee (no damage)Full
attack:
2 claws +9 melee (1d8+4) and tongue +4 meleeSpace/Reach:
10
ft./5 ft. (Tongue 20 ft)Special
attacks:
Tongue grab, swallow whole, poison (rarely)Special
qualities: CamouflageSaves:
Fort +7 Ref +2 Will +1Abiliti

Just
one zombieBy Strega
"Brother,"
said the gate guard. "You don't need to go. It is just one
undead. If it comes out of the grove," he pointed as the
tree-covered knoll next to the town graveyard, "A patrol will
get it."
"And,"
said the other guard, "People who go in the grove sometimes
don't come out. We've gone in to check. Sometimes we find their
clothing, so something happened to them, but we never find the
cause."
"Which
is why I s

Sweetwater
and BellaBy Strega
The
smaller of Monstertown's (properly Greyston's, but you couldn't stop
people from calling it that) arenas was a cozy little venue. Only a
hundred and fifty feet wide from the bottom row of seats to the seats
on the opposite side, and only ten rows of seats. The bigger arena
was used for sporting events, battles between mock armies, and other
spectacles. Sometimes they even flooded it and had ship to ship
combat. The smaller arena, with better viewing, was used f

Thistlefur
- Neutral Dire Badger (magically enhanced druid's companion animal)
Size/Type:
Large animalHit
Dice: 13d8+78 (137
hp)Initiative:
+3Speed:
30 feet (6 squares), burrow 10 ft.Armor
Class: 31 (-2 size, +3
dex, +11 natural, +5 enhancement, +4 deflection), flat-footed 28,
touch 19Base
attack/Grapple:
+10/+14Full attack:
2 claws +22 melee (1d6+11) and 1 bite +20 melee (2d6+8) or grapple
+26Special attacks:
Rage, Swallow WholeSpecial
qualities: Low-light
vision, scent Saves:
Fort +18, Ref +16

The
inn at the end of the roadBy Strega
Miss
Paula ran her inn with a firm hand. The food was good, the upstairs
rooms were always clean, and the beer and wine weren't watered.
Alcohol was served only between noon and nine in the evening and
anyone showing signs of getting messily drunk was politely asked to
leave. It wasn't the fanciest place to stay but it was safe, it was
reliable, and that's all some people needed. Their little burg, all
five hundred of them, was lucky enough to be in civi

A
visit to Verbobonc 2By Strega
"Is
that all?" Inga growled.
"I
can get my dagger and start stabbing you as we fuck," said the
muscular man behind her. "But otherwise, yes. Yes it is."
To
his credit Mathis did his best. He even bit her nape hard enough to
sting with his flat human teeth as they mated, and for a human he was
well endowed. She couldn't really complain about the sex. It was
just that sometimes she needed more than a human could give her.
"Oh,

A day in the
lifeBy Strega
It
was an hour after sunrise and the druid was making his way down the
road. An early riser, he'd been up for two hours, long enough to eat
breakfast, stow his sleeping roll and gear on Thistlefur's harness
and climb aboard his mount. Today he was off to Rand Towne, most
populous of the Five Villages around the mountain.
Like
the mountain itself it was named after Sir Randall, the knight who
led the effort to clear the area of monsters. When he and his band
drove of

A
visit to VerboboncBy Strega
Inga
the wolverine arrived in Verbobonc late on Market day and followed
her usual routine when pulling into town. She spent half an hour
helping the drovers get the horses settled and then did a last
walk-around to make sure nothing odd was going on. Thieves often
assumed the best time to hit a wagon for some loot was as the crew
was distracted by the labor of bringing the caravan to a stop. She'd
made a meal of more than one such sneakthief.
She
met Mathis coming

Bartleby
the badgerLarge
Awakened dire badger, Neutral (Good tendencies)
Str:
22 Con 24 Dex 15 Int 11 Wis 12 Cha 12Initiative:
+6Hit
points:
104 (9d8+63)Armor
class;
19 (+5 natural, +2 Dex, +3 magic, -1 size) or
24 (with chainmail barding and helmet)Feats:
Alertness, Track, Improved Grapple, Improved Disarm, Improved Natural
Weapon (claw), Improved Initiative, Iron Will
Saves:
Fort +16, Reflex +11, Will +10
Skills:
Spot (+15), Listen (+15), Intimidate (+12) Survival (+12

BartlebyBy
Strega
The
badger sat in a booth, a mug of beer clasped between its forepaws.
Claws as long as a man's hand enclosed the drink, ensuring it would
go nowhere. Lacking thumbs the badger did not risk lifting it to its
muzzle, but rather dipped its nose to lap up the suds.
A
badger in a bar was curious enough. More curious was the size of the
thing. The thing's long body and neck made it sit rather taller than
a man. Were it to slide off the seat and onto its short legs, yet
still s

Uvuzi
and CaeruBy Strega
He
was cold, very cold. Whatever possessed him to try to fly in this
weather? Snow flew into the young dragon's eyes and his long muscular
body bit by bit lost its strength as the winter chill crept through
his scales. Worse yet, his membranous wings were simply skin between
bones and they were practically numb with cold. He was never the
nimblest flier and as his wings chilled he grew clumsy. There was
nothing to crash into up here but if he got much colder he might dr

At
the meat marketBy Strega
"Ah,
Uvuzi," growled a voice behind her. "How's everyone's
favorite skunk-snake?"
"Captain,"
Uvuzi purred, recognizing the voice. "Congratulations on your
promotion."
Captain,
formerly Lieutenant, Snarl (if he had another name, or for that
matter a human face, she didn't know it) grinned. He was a werewolf,
gray of fur with black tail tip and ears, and though Uvuzi 'stood'
seven feet tall when reared up on her snakey lower body

The
longest bulgeBy
Strega
In
Monstertown, more formally known as Greyston, on a street of no
particular note, there was a little house sandwiched between a tailor
shop and a wine seller. It had a tiled portico perhaps three yards
deep and six wide that one had to cross to get to the narrow front
door, and there, occasionally, you could see the coiled-up shape of
the blue and white skunkette lamia named Uvuzi.
Even
in Monstertown, where giants and werewolves and stranger things
worked in the tow

The
last place they'd lookBy Strega
He
stood sixteen feet tall from his clawed feet to the tips of his
upright ears and though he was slender in a foxy way he weighed a
good two tons, with handsome reddish fur, white belly and darker
'socks' on his legs and forearms. He had four of the one and two of
the other, for Hialfi was a foxtaur - as far as anyone knew, the only
one. There were rumors of others but no one who wasn't deep in his
cups would claim to meeting one, whereas pretty much everyon

A
tale of two dragonsBy
Strega
It was an
ordinary enough day for the druid and his badger companion. Ordinary
enough until the dragon showed up, anyway.
The druid
spent much of his time on a circuit of five small towns, riding on
Thistlefur as the big badger trundled down the rutted dirt roads.
She was not fast but she had endurance, and eventually they'd arrive
at a village and see who needed what done. Crops and animals always
needed tending to, babies sometimes needed help being born, inju

Badger,
horse, foxtaur, man
By
Strega
It
was normally perfectly safe to gallop a horse up the long rutted lane
from Adelberg to Willoughby. The worst that'd happen would be getting
cursed at by some traveling merchant or farmer driving a hay wain.
It was a settled territory, free of war and with only widely
scattered monsters or bandits, and there weren't enough people out
and about to worry about trampling someone, especially with most
everyone off at Godsday services. You probably shouldn't

The
griffon and the tigressBy
Strega
He
was five hundred yards up, drifting silent and unseen on the winds,
when he spotted the tigress sunning herself in the meadow.
Whisper-quiet he canted a wing, easing into a slow turn as he looked
the situation over. He saw no one but the tigress, no other hestan
cat-people, no one at all but her. His belly growled in anticipation
and his beak parted to his his tongue out to lick what passed for his
lips. Here was his newest lover, not to mention his lunch

Hialfi
and the griffon
By
Strega
It
was a fine flock of sheep, one the griffon had raided before. Sheep
were a favorite prey of the lion-bird; too stupid to run, poorly
guarded (a shepherd and a dog, most likely, and those would run the
moment they saw him circling) and small enough that a single sheep
wouldn't weigh him down if he needed to do a snatch-and-run. More
than once, when a flock was unexpectedly well protected, he'd flown
away with the a kicking set of hooves hanging from his beak, g

The
lion, the badger and the druid
By
Strega
The
lion-man at the bar stood an inch under seven feet tall, his fur thin
with age and his scarred nose and muzzle a sign to everyone who paid
attention that this was a seasoned veteran. Broad of shoulder and
narrow of waist, his brown-black mane was bound into a dozen and more
braids each with a silver-and-turquoise band. Across his back hung
hung a sword as battlescarred as he was and with a strong iron
scabbard that well showed how many times it h

The
werewolf and the praka
By
Strega
It
was a plump little prakafemme the werewolf happened across in the
woods, and that was just the way he liked them. When big males
happened across the little raccoon ladies in town the response was
often to offer a handful of coins and tilt their head toward a
convenient alley. There, if she were interested, the male would
crouch down until her muzzle was just at the right height. Her bright
little eyes would look up at him cheerfully for a few minutes, s

Why
we let it liveBy
Strega
"What I
don't understand," Randall said, "Is why you don't kill it.
It's right there!"
Harris, the
older guard, shrugged. Like his new friend he wore a metal cap, a
byrnie of chain-maille and thick leather bracers with iron
reinforcing strips. An oval shield hung on his back and he leaned on
a spear a foot taller than he was. Each of them carried a short,
heavy club as a last resort.
Randall was
pointing at the run-down cemetery a hundred yards

The
centaur, the badger and the druid
by
Strega
It was a roan
centaur with an extravagantly red beard the druid ran into on the
road that day. He never did learn the centaur's name, but rather
liked him nevertheless. The 'taur wore splints of steel armor on his
forelegs and chest and a silver-studded harness supported a
greatsword in a scabbard along the flank of his horse half. That
might mean he was an adventurer, but though the druid had a powerful
loathing for that profession he was willin

King
Copperscale
By
Strega
They
called him King Copperscale, but not because of the color of his own.
No, Copperscale's own natural armor was a deep crimson, shading in
places almost a fire-red glow. His long curved horns and wickedly
sharp talons were so close to black that only in direct sunlight
could the blood-colored highlights be made out.
His
eyes were amber, slit-pupilled and keen, his back ridged from his
nose to the end of his tail, and if he spread his leathery wings to
their widest

The
warrior, the druid and the badger
By
Strega
Erik's
horse snorted and half-reared as they hit a bend in the road, and as
they passed a tree he saw why. Coming the other way up the rutted
trail was an enormous badger.
"Gods
above," he swore as he grabbed the hilt of the longsword hanging
from the saddle. Calmer nerves prevailed as he saw that the badger
too had a rider.
He
could only stop and stare. The broad, turtle-like body of the beast
supported a blanket, saddlebags, a bedrol

Mirabet,
Sylabeth and the Gold
By
Strega
Mirabet was a
hundred years older than he was, and larger, and a different color,
but the Gold did not care. He had first met her five years before,
scenting the unmistakable trace of a dragoness when flying by her
mountain aerie. Upon discovering a Silver dragoness much his
superior in age, size and power he greeted her very respectfully and
went on his way.
Dragons are
not plentiful beasts, particularly the greater metallics like the
Silver and Gold,

Mavirre
By
Strega
Mavirre
was sleek, and strong, and fast. Tall for a hestan woman, with a
lynx-like russet pelt, she stood a hair more than six feet if you
counted her upright ears. A skillful fighter, her sharp retractile
claws and a powerful fanged bite let her hold her own even without
other weapons...normally.
It
was not a normal situation. She'd woken stripped naked, her claws
trimmed cruelly short and with a leather muzzle locked onto her
snout. She'd only been given a few seconds to r

Sunrise
By
Strega
He
was a man of many names, this wizard. By birth he was Ruhollah
Rushiadah, a child of
Ket
in the west, where the nomads built their cities to trade with the
fair-skinned easterners.
His
name being a mouthful for those not used to it, he went by “Alias”
during his adventuring
career.
A simple, obvious nickname, but it worked.When the Arch-Mage
Alias came to the Lortmil mountains in the fullness of his powers and
bent his
knee
to Lord Gray, ruler of Greyston and its

Guilt
By Strega
 
Hiram had begun to believe that somehow, somewhere, the gold dragon was watching him. How else could it arrange that each time it appeared, he was deep in his cups? He didn't drink all that often, but every time....
 
"Your dragon is back," an out of breath farmer told him. It had happened enough times now that Hiram knew as soon as he burst through the tavern door he'd say something like that. Once or twice a year for the last five years the Gold had