What we need is an alternative to hiring mages that are good enough to deal with the Guild’s mages.
Red Dogs? his shop isnt on the market, you’ll have to wind over behind it, on one of the back streets. Wont be hard to find though, just look for the metal dogs and you’ve found him.
The engines and playthings of the artificer kings.
The deployment of the Lord of the Waste’s army.
A tactical lay-out for villainous forces inspired by Warhammer 40K
Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms, greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind
Pismir the Miser
A war of ambition threatens the unseelie houses of Thiran Nar.
Also known as the school of the unseen and the Enclave of Enchantment. Little more is known to outsiders than that.
You can’t tell safe water from bad, well unless there is a pile of rotting bones in it with not a scrap of flesh left on ‘em and then it’s pretty obvious.
PVT. Quinn, memoirs
The cloud doesnt have much of a smell. It looks like fog until it’s on you and then it’s two late. A couple of sucking breaths and your chest is one fire and your eyes are bleeding. Terrible stuff, but if you think it is tough on the living, you should see what it does to the dead
PVT Thomas Quinn.
A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world
Rotten piles of choss, that’s all that was left of the wizard’s tower, that’s it.
The Mughal of the Gremils, the Shah of Lag, the most devoted of Mathom.
For the Emperor! For Anna Purna! For the Tigers!
Motto of the 1st Anna Purna Legion, the White Tigers.
Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.
The Book of Hammerskjold
Also known as the Ankarran Thistle, Magewort, and a general nuisance.
They were formidable even before they learned how to use weapons.
Nahactl, the Wanderer
A glowing green stone flowing with the elemental power of evil
The Official citadel directory for all of your carousing needs.
The worst sort of scoundrels and hoodlums. Let down your guard for a even a second and they are on you like Klavadogs.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.