The Seraphon are creatures of celestial light and cold-blooded fury, warrior-hosts summoned into being by the slann mage-priests who slumber within vast temple-ships adrift among the stars. Whether they are true flesh or the given-form of a slann's dreaming, none can say, for when a battle ends the Seraphon often vanish like morning mist, returning to the void from which they were called.
The Seraphon muster ranked cohorts of saurus, disciplined and merciless, alongside darting skinks who read the movements of the constellations as scripture. Above them float the slann themselves, ancient beyond reckoning, their minds burdened with the last memory of the World-that-Was. They wage war not from malice but from an unyielding devotion to the Great Plan of a dead order, redrawing the heavens to their design.
To mortal eyes the Seraphon are terrifying allies, appearing without warning to shatter a foe, then withdrawing without a word of thanks or explanation. They serve no throne but the stars, and reckon the frantic struggles of younger races as motes against the slow turning of the cosmos. Where they strike, comets fall and reality itself seems to remember an older, sterner law.
The bestiary continues
