HUBERT SPALA

[HUBERT SPALA]

080 – Streetwalker

Ah yes. Million years might have passed, but some professions survived virtually unchanged, for some universal, basic needs remain forever encoded into the existence of many beings. Farmers grow food. Thieves steal. Undertakers take care of the bodies. And prostitutes sells theirs for a living. As soon as first settlements re-emerged and began to enforce some social strata upon the various kin, these primordial professions returned with the usual ease, slipping into their preordained places. In many tribes the position was held in some esteem, almost religious in nature. In others, it was occupation like any. Some rejected it as sinful, of course, for some faiths are always focused on the sexual fixations of their priests and prophets. And then, new cities emerged, big and daunting, stratifying the societies even more, creating new demands… And when there is a demand, there will be those who caters to it. First brothels found their way back to the face of Posterra, even more debauched and delightfully eclectic, rich with the colors, shapes and varied appendages of the manifold people of the ruined realms. Now with enough coin in your pocket and a knowledge of certain places everyone can get their rocks off to nearly any desire, be it the carnal electro-stimulation of a flesh-devouring xenodomina to the hypnotic bliss of the soporific musk of the Slugmothers.

[HUBERT SPALA]

077 – Kimera

Despite the sheer madness of most wizards and mages in the bygone era of the brutal and utterly awesome Tower Wars, they still tend to put a lot of effort and thought into the monsters they wrought against the straining sensibilities of reality. After all they all had a function and they should excel at it, so careful design was required for them to perform such a role well. Sure, mistakes were made, and some truly abhorrent abominations were quickly tossed to the darkest pits and deepest bowels of the Earth to wither there (or grow, multiply and start a new civilization – maybe). Sometimes however, especially when hard pressed in a losing duel, they would just cram some ramshackle spells together, mix and match random body parts, sew them into a patchwork creation just to quickly fill in their braying ranks with new muscle to fight and bleed aetheric ichor in their stead. In such way Kimeras were made, or rather, it became a term for such unfortunate entities, made hastily, often without any idea or notion behind, just a maddening need to create fresh bodies for the grinder of their brutish conflicts.

[HUBERT SPALA]

074 - Mi-Kark, Restaurateur

The Underempire, despite its many successes and glorious expansion, is still a militaristic state with harsh laws and iron grip on power for one ruling caste. It faces therefore unique challenges that no other realm on the surface must struggle with - how to keep the massive population in line while still making sure that enterprise, inventiveness and social order prevail? This was especially jarring in the few biggest hives of the Underempire, vast, sprawling cities bustling with citizenry of ever kind, including even non-bugs from the surface after stern immigration process. But while Ants might be many things, no one ever accused they’re of lack of industriousness and economy-oriented planning. They knew that their growing empire will need to slack on some rules and give people some leeway to grow, to form firmer societies and to enrich them with new skills and capabilities - even if that meant a fierce propaganda machine and indoctrination to ensure that the One Vision is upheld in every corner of the empire. It creates an uncanny sense of false normalcy in the bustling cities - stalls and eateries fill the busy streets, big spires emerge with businesses, factories and offices of growing bureaucracy match the peculiar uniformity of message and thought, ensured by the Correctness Police and aura of oppression. 

[HUBERT SPALA]

073 - Sfynks

When a hunter is in need of a loyal (if a little moody) companion that can aid any hunt with excellent set of skills, they look no further than to tame and train their very own Sfynks. Powerfully build, lethal in combat, swift and nimble with elegant grace, this musclebound felines boost highly developed senses, keen vigilance and surprisingly easy-going nature with great fondness for belly rubs and headpats. Little is known of their origin - eyeless, big, with definitely othewordly features, it is likely that they were a form of biological intereference from before the Dreadwake made nigh all orbital approaches impossible, perhaps from even the first attempts of colonization of Earth by one of the manifold galactic empires and fiefdoms, always at each other throat and using their proxy forces in distant planets to duke it out. No matter from where it came from, even on the harsh surface of Posterra this hardy creature swiftly adapted to multiple biomes and in many cases established itself as a potent predator and a force to be reckoned with. For a long time various clans of kin and folk considered them a threat, scary, wild beasts, but more bold individuals speculated that the toothed monsters are too keen to visit settlements, too used to presence of civilization and always found lounging near various habitats, clearly made in some way to be a companion. And so, they return to that role with their new masters - no matter their shape, size or smell.

[HUBERT SPALA]

072 - Charnel Fiend

Posterra is a breeding ground of the most monstrous nightmares. It was a place ltitered with terrible mutants, arcane abominations and dark gods long before the Dreadwake split the skies open and bled it’s fractal unreality into the material universe, casting it’s corrupting influence far and wide, aiding the creation of even more impossible horrors. To wander the face of Posterra by night, even in the few well guarded cities, was to court danger. Cunning predators stalked every ground in search of prey, but when their precision and practice can be a terror to behold, it was the crazed, unhinged entities that cast true dismay in the heart of every community. Lumbering, blood-madenned beasts, made of the weave of darkest dreams, of flesh knitted in grotesque combinatiosn, held together only by their inability to understand that they should not exist in the first place. These monsters are manifold, none ever alike to the other - a seemingly tossedf at random mass of teeth, glistening guts, muscles, sinews, excess body parts. Some by a sheer stroke of luck manage to get a mostly functional form, just enough to let them hunt for more meat to accomodate into their unholy frames…