Said to be made in hidden stills deep in the mountain caves, with equal parts blood and corn, it isn't in fact the alchohol in these bottles that make this brew famous, but the bottles themselves. Through some perverse magics, these bottles have been made so that, if they are broken in the hand's of a sentient, they cannot be dropped unless if the lifeblood of a sentient has been spilled.
Needless to say these brews are banned in any sane city, village, hamlet, thorp, or metropolis, but lone bottles have their way of finding themselves being served under other names, and with different tastes. Go to Comment
Rather, but the recoil on the Tommygun was rather bad too. One could only assume, the vaguely cyberpunk-ness of most near-future settings, that advances had been made in artifical limbs and the like to allow more tolerance in the human arm for getting kicked by a mule some ten times in half a second. Go to Comment
Possession might be reasonable cause for execution, but I can see it being coated on the treasure in a Chieftan's burial chamber, or what not. Does repeated contact make the poison work faster? Go to Comment