Devised by the most powerful Cuada sorcerors, it is intended to guard their race against the most powerful menance that they have ever faced.
Honored and cherished by the people of the Ragosi mountains, the Osaki have allowed them to retain their freedom in the face of those who would enslave them.
Like the heated embrace of a lover, this singular thing caresses and binds itself around the chest of the wearer, linkings its fate with his to the end of his days…
Everyone who’s young, beautiful and wealthy in the kingdom, owns a few pieces of master-work by this almost legendary craftsman. If you’re a young woman that wants to dazzle everyone at the banquet, you’d better not be seen without your Rustof jewelry.
They say diamonds are a woman’s best friend.
But should she prove unfaithful, they can also be her worst enemy, the instrument of her utter destruction. The whore will pay a heavy price for her infidelity, I swear!
‘‘A more abomnaible sight we could not have imagined! When all of their warriors had been slain by our valorous soldiers of God, the crazed priests rushed upon us from the summit of their temple, screaming their ghoulish war-cries as they rushed to do battle.
Our elation at the prospect of an easy slaughter before us soon turned into powerful horror as we beheld that these fiends were clad in the gore suffused hides of our fallen comrades! ‘’
-Taken from the writings on an obscure chronicler who accompanied the conquistors of Tahutol on their epic voyage of subjugation and empire.
A crude and appearently worthless trinket, this tawdry bit of finery would attract no notice at all, disregarded as as just foolish vanity on the part of an improvished peasant or labourer.
But mind you don’t lose one of these when you’re on the errand of some powerful guild leader. He’ll be sure to skin you for that.
The gathered crowd watches with a highly palpable combination of of nervousness and awe, as the Quarsooth steps into the great stone cavern.
They had been summoned here by the dictate of their new overlords to heed their sermon, the vision that the newly arrived saviours of mankind had brough with them from their lengthy, astral passage from the great heavens that formed the very roof of the Heavens. But in their hearts, the people are afraid. The Quarsooth for all the benovalence they have displayed, are still creatures too dangerously akin to the demons or angels of their ancient myths or stories. And all dealings with being of supernatural provenance are fraught with peril, as the old tales warn.
But even as they continue to stare at the Quarsooth, their minds in turmoil, the radiant being reaches into the folds of his robes and withdraws a strange metal rod. Putting this to his lips, he begins to play a tune.
Soon, all fear and suspicion and fear is erased from the minds of the gathered folk, as the haunting and poignant song regals them with tales of the lost glories of Zor-Tanis, all the while reminding them how by particpating in the attempts of the Quarsooth to resuract it on this world, they can bring an end to their own endemic sufering and enjoy absolute power over great stores of knowledge that will enable them to ascend to a position of riches and enlightenment that is rivalled only by Zor-Tanis.
And thus is the conquest of humanity being achieved…
Residing in the core of this giant black megalithic structure built to resemble a crude representation of a lightning bolt, lies a Shard of the Storm.
And a lot else..
A simple net made of strong jute,this otherwise innocous looking object when combined with the amazing Ahal paste used by the tribsemen of the Powi,can be a serious threat to any warrior who finds himself menaced with this traditional Powi wepaon.
Just like with the sharks they so revere,a wrong or inappropriate action can provoke a lethal reaction from a Shura. As the other mer-races are so fond of saying among themselves,the only thing more unpredictable than a shark is a Shura. This is a prefered weapon, simple yet deadly.
A well crafted but otherwise ordinary steak knife. It makes the cutting of meat sooooooo easy.
Bestowed by the pagan Godess Inar,upon the king of Silamarh in the his nation’s most dire time of need,it allowed to destroy nigh single-handed,the great horde of the infamous barbarian war-chief,Hordan.
The classic sword of the incorrigible munchkin,you think? Not quite.
Blessed by three of the Spirits of Nature,it ensures that the wielder will slay his foe in any duel. Provided he always fulfills the requirements laid down by the first wielder.
A traditional weapon among certain primitive tribes such as the Powi,this strange paste derived from the Ahal nut has been used to suprise and encumber many an opponent.
Can a demon ever learn what it means to feel pity, grief, fear, despair, joy and the rest of those tangled emotions and feelings that plague humans? Can beings who obtain their deepest satisfaction from the suffering they inflict on others,ever embrace those very things they so passionately despise and hate about the mortal races? Mozrak,wisest of the half-demons and beloved of the Mother Godess, believed it not impossible. The Staff is both his curse and gift to his pureblood cousins.
In some cultures,a man’s repect depends on his virility and sexual prowess in bed,as does his hope of getting a heir. But what if for some reason,he find himself unable to perform his duty in the bed chamber? Well,he should despair not,for the Soup of Fertility may save him yet!
Savage,blood thirsty,the amphibious shark men or Zaben cannot be controlled,so the conventional wisdom goes.
But is this really the case?
Harbouring the accumalated memories of generations of the Uluun,it offers either great wisdom or raving insanity.
A powerful stimulant,it is invaluble to the warrior struggling to stave off fatigue on the battle field.
Idea from the Aeneid. Could make an intriguing encounter when searching for firewood..."Quite near there happened to be a mound of earth, at the highest part of which were growing thickets of cornel and a dense cluster of spiky myrtle-stems. I went up there and tried to wrench the green growth from the ground to provide a leafy covering for our altar. There I was confronted by a horrible and astounding miracle. For from the first bush which I tried to break off...blood oozed in dark drops, fouling the earth with its spots...A piteous moan came from the base of the mound and I heard a human voice answering me: 'Why, Aeneas, must you rend a poor sufferer? I am buried here...for I am Polydorus. Here death overpowered me in a crop of piercing iron-pointed spears. And so a crop resembling javelins has grown over me...'"