The Fimir are a shunned and dying race, cyclopean monsters that lurk within the mist-choked marshes and drowned coastlines of the Old World. Cursed long ago, so their own legends claim, they can no longer bear their own kind, and their females are so scarce that the race teeters forever on the edge of extinction. To survive, the Fimir mount raids from the fog to abduct human women, dragging them back to their dank fortress-mounds for dark and sorcerous purpose.
Ruled by a caste of witch-hags who alone can work their bleak magic, Fimir warbands emerge only under cover of mist, which their sorceresses conjure to shroud their coming. Hunched and scaled, each warrior bears a single baleful eye and a whipping barbed tail, and they fight with a sullen, joyless ferocity, striking without warning and melting back into the marsh before the alarm can spread.
Few scholars of the Empire will even admit the Fimir exist, for they keep to the loneliest bogs and shun the wider wars of Chaos. Yet the coastal folk know better, whispering of the fog that rolls in wrong and the cottages found empty at dawn. The Fimir are a curse made flesh, wretched, malevolent, and slowly, sullenly, sinking into oblivion.
The bestiary continues
