Dread Adventure Awaits Within The Realrealms!
You are an Immortal Fae, glorious in mien, perhaps a Thane, or fell sorcerer, Glamourbound and rich with magicks, bound by warpacts or rent asunder by treachery and vendetta, a veteran of a thousand wars against Elf, Troll and Mortal, and, yea, even the Helking and His horde of Enfer. An Immortal you, but will you live to see the Fall of All?
Or, perhaps, ye be of immortal Trollkind, twisted and despised, kin to Fae yet full of envy, or yet still, of Mortal stock, who lays waste to the glory of the Fae but whose short days are quickly run?
A visceral fast play RPG, a place where glory and death are hand in hand. Create immortal characters for a chance of everlasting fame within the pages of the games future history, The Red Book of Ages!
All such things await within these very pages, enabled by a brand new, fast play, innovative role playing system, where the only requirements are a few D10s, a pen, paper and a rich imagination! Tread the Immortal Lands and the Beyond into the infinite worlds of the Realrealms to gain the glory of Glare Everlasting, and, perhaps, to see your name written within the Red Book of the Ages!
Disclaimer: Elfking The Immortal Role-playing Playing Game is Lucid Eye Publications game of the Realrealms where players and a games master deal with themes of Death, Immortality, Loyalty and Reality in a visceral manner. The game contains content which may require a mature disposition.
Twilight Of The Immortal
'What madness is this? What insanity wrought such devastation? What be the Demon of Delerium who might grip our minds so, that they be filled with such hate, malice and vengeance to have worked this ruin upon the glorious world of the immortal Fae? To have drawn us ever down into an endless spiral of this Everwar, to have brought such magnificence and glory to its bended knee, to have witnessed the destruction of the ever resplendent Kingdoms of Eas and consigned them beneath the iron shod heel of Mortal darkness. Those very beings who live in fear, ever shackled to the Mistress of Time, who see only as far as their short lives can muster, who see naught of the beauty they now defile. A thousand woes be upon them though they know naught of what they have wrought!'