Some people think that the VÃƒÂ©nat are harmless, helpless, charming creatures. Despite their small size and gauzy wings, they are anything but. You underestimate them at your peril.
Thirty systems of justice-or the most rank injustice, in some cases.
Thirty slaves, some of which have hellish lives of toil, others which have a somewhat easier life.
Seeing her boyfriend, Amber opened her mouth to tell him her true name, but the Masking Bracelet that she was wearing took control, and forced her to keep her mouth shut and walk away.
The wizard entered the inn, quietly activated his ring and the noise around him of chatting people, clinking glasses and munching of food fell silent. *Peace, perfect peace* thought the wizard.
They took the murderer of Cassie Davis to the chair at noon and the Warden pulled the lever. There was a loud crackle and a blue flash and the murderer’s body shrank and changed into that of his young victim. There was total silence whilst Cassie’s mother asked a question that only Cassie would have known.
When she answered it correctly there was a loud cheer as she was set free. Justice had been done and Cassie was not only legally avenged, but alive again, whilst her killer no longer existed in any form.
The hungry great white shark closed in on the seal, wanting it’s supper, but the seal dived out of reach of the snapping jaws and then showed it’s true nature, as a hunter and killer of sharks.
The Admiral was not expecting it when one of the officers that he was expecting to see thrust his hand against his forehead. At once he fell, knocked out, upon his desk. The hand thst touched him was not a human hand but a Hand of Ma-O, and the officers were disguised Children of Ma-O, who dressed him in a captain’s uniform and walked him out between them, telling the sailors at the gate that he was drunk and that they would prefer it that the secret was kept from his fellow officers.
Spennymore’s Skating Boots look normal to the untrained eye. It is difficult to mentally connect them to the legends that cling to them, of those who would attack the wearer suddenly ending up head over heels.
The Ogre charged at the small goblin and ran out after it only to find the dried crust cracking under it’s feet, plunging it into the ooze. It roared with rage, but the more it tried to escape, the deeper it sank. "Welcome to my homeland," said the gopblin with an grin on it’s face. "You were a fool to chase me in here, and now I’ve got you right where I want you…"
The muggers cornered the little goblin against the wall, when with a hissing noise he suddenly grew to double his size. Muscles bulged out from his body and they lokked at each other, then turned and ran. The Sproggan watched them go and grinned at the thought of how well he had fooled them, and when they were gone he deflated back to his normal size and went on his way.
The thief looked around to make sure noone was near and then grabbed a golden jewel-studded chalice. At once two bronze effigies sat up on the tombs they lay on, their ruby-red eyes snapped upon and they spoke in a metalic voice which echoed through the nave. "Put that back and leave this holy place, or face death for your act of sacriliege."
The adventurer picked up the hilt, wondered where the blade was, and turned the handle with the hilt pointing towards his face. His screams of pain as the blade of steam cooked his face could be heard a long way away. He had just learned the hard way not to mishandle a Company Steamsword.
The Suit of Purity appears to be one designed for the heroic, but it masks it’s true villanous nature. Anyone who wears it for long is bound to be slowly twisted to the Dark Side.
The Maelstrom is greatly feared by those who have to face it in combat, as they know that they could soon be destined for Davy Jones’s Locker…
"Since I was issued with this rifle, it’s saved my life on more then one occasion. It’s the best weapon that I’ve ever been issued with." John Volkov, a private in the army of the De Madden Company.
"The time I spent in East Point was almost as hard as time in a military prison would be," said the Colonel to his junior officers, " but I am pleased that I went there as it made me who I am today.
"Things were better in the old days," said the mage, "when you could watch the beautiful spellbook soaring on the air currants high above the geysers, and it would come to you to be fed. But they drove it into hiding, they did."
Many knightly orders play lip service to women, but few take it seriously, and even fewer would allow women to join their order and ride in the ranks with them as equals. Yet the Knights of the Lady, it seems, truly do think of women as equals and have done this.
30 entertainers to make even the miserable forget their troubles and be happy again, if only for a short time before their sorrows close in again.
A certain type of demon cannot not be hit by ranged weapons or attacks. Attacks have to be made up close and personal for the damage to mean something. Ranged attacks are to impersonal.
Possibally a way to make the ranged attacks more meaningful would be to coat the arrow head or what not with the shooters blood. Of course, they'd better be a good shot, otherwise they're wasting arrows and already bleeding to boot.
Spells: wizards might have half or no effect, preist might work due to divine intention.