Originally a failed invention, the usefulness of Nurin beads have since been redifined for a more nefarious purpose. Those who know of the usefulness of these gems are able to get whatever they want from their most hated enemy, and incriminate them just hours later.
Forget the rickety, fragile skeletons. Remove all thoughts of the limping, weak zombies. Shrug off thoughts of blood-dependant vampires. Whereas the former are reflections of necromatic magic, the Mogrolyth is a creation derived from the pure essence of unholy power - namely pain.
Quote from: “Sir Isaac Newton” Every action has an equal and opposite reaction
The Golem moss is an amazing lifeform, and is able to survive in nearly any environment. Its evolutionary rate is far higher than any other creature on the planet, enabling them to adapt.
Found mainly in dense forests, the Charyn slug is a most irritating creature to the average adventurer. Not because it is dangerous in any way, but that it tends to disturb their sleep.
These mites fly silently and are small enough to be nearly invisible to the naked eye. If it was not for light, no one would know they were there. These creatures absorb and re-emmit light, turning dim to bright, and bright to blinding.
An Order created in ancient times built upon the concept of “Knowledge is Power”. They are the ultimate power.
Few in the history of the world have mastered creation of the aspect stones - certainly there is no mortal alive today that could craft one. Few even know of such an items existence. It is said, however, that all legends are derived from truths, and the Aspect stones may be the fact behind many great myths.
An innocent square of delicate material - barely larger than a handkerchief in size. However, those who’s skin come into contact with this cloth, may find themselves wishing they never handled it.
A small trinket, unseen for centuries. It could be found anywhere: Perhaps lying with another cache of coins in an abandoned monestary. Perhaps behind a glass casing of a coin collectors display. But those who know what this coin represents may be inclined to flip it during times of oppression. Doing so may become their salvation, or the instrument of their demise. So toss the coin if there is nothing to lose, and see if you have The Devils Luck.
A christmas gift to my fellow citadelians, made in my favourite medium. Of course, you all know what my gifts are like. But hey, Christmas is a time of giving!
There are places in this world, which hold a weak barrier to the Spirit realm and the real world. One such place is The Spirit Glade.
A pale comparison of a former man. Obviously someone who has a terrible past.
The lost Topaz of Anamis, the famous explorer, who disappeared on a foolhardy expedition.
(Author: I made myself sit down and write this :P I missed posting items :( )
A dagger which never kills directly certainly seems useless. But there are more ways to kill a person than to stab them.
A simple, almost clear potion with a misty swirl within it. Pungeant smelling and extremely poisonous to drink. Its purpose isn’t to drink, however, but to call upon aid.
Ever had that oh-so-annoying companion, that just wouldnt shut up? Here is the perfect remedy.
In the center of the great library, seated on a plain pedastal of twisted iron, sits a Grey crystal ball, 30 centimetres in diameter and with a misty interior to it. It is to this ball, that people go to find the whereabouts of books in the library, but the orb is much more complex than its simple task, though few may be aware of it.
A fluffy, pink stuffed bear which always seems to end up in unlikely places, and which people tend to get quite attatched to…
“Bah!” The bowman cried, for his bow had fallen apart in his very hands, after firing but one arrow! “Wait until I get to that weaponsmith. These arrows are obviously cursed!” The bowman discarded the quiver of 200 arrows by the road, where scavengers found it, and each separate arrow went their own ways with different owners, as time passed. Some found them cursed. Others, found that they may not be as cursed as one thinks.
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?