Fishron, the subject of sailor superstition and mythos - inhabitant of wretched seas and thought to be the sole hand of sunken galleons and vessels alike. Accounts of the vile and scabrous beast dub tusks piercing its swine-like facade - a colossal body with wings extruding the pasty emerald hue of what could only be centuries of sea debris built upon its stocky figure. With only a single fin to flaunt the illusion of a familiar animal, Fishron will lure sea laborers off hunting routes to thrash
Kor'garr, Skriptgoth of the Iron Horde and owner of the Kaktuz Weekli, lets out a booming laugh through the arid oasis air of San'Briu. vials of ink rattle and quills are nearly knocked over as the grey orc holds up this bounty with an ecstatic leer of menace and bloodlust.
"WUNDERVUL! Ah Bounti agh Hunt, aht dah zeym tik? DizĀ muztĀ enter dah nekzt publikayzhun..." With that, bulky fingers stained with charcoal and ink slam the crumpled paper upon the crude writing desk amongst various drafts