This enormous blade is capable of leveling more than just men.
It sees you, can you see it? Even when the room is lit?
Funny how those shadows twist, as though the room were filled with mist.
But theres no mist, the room is clear! About now, you should start to fear.
clear your mind, take a last breath. For in a second, you’ll meet with death.
This discreet and stylishly concealable weapon is quite capable of cleaning up its own mess.
A land being plunged into chaotic energies, wild superstition, massive prejudices and distrust. More of a campaign setting than anything else.
This is more of a concept applied to a particular setting than the setting itself, bear this in mind.
The tale of colourshade of the two-fold, and his reknowned skill of painting.
“Yes, these boots are very fine,” said Smoke’s Empty Lens, “But I do not care for them, nor for you.”
Firefly River wept a single tear and went away…
A legendary relic, suited to base a campaign around, with the power of Creation crystallized in a single milky seed…
High in the Gralbak mountains live the Yale Riders, a reclusive tribe of gnomes who have succeeded in taming the wild yales of the mountains. Skilled riders of their agile beasts they are excellent hunters and warriors, though they do have a firm tradition of hospitality.
A true weapon of Light, crafted by the master craftsman Elriada for the coming of age of Anlara, heir of the forest elves. When rejected by Anlara, Elriada laid his curse upon the Longbow, ensuring that this mighty weapon would be truly valued by its users.
Every now and then someone truly extraordinary is born, even to a race of kobold like creatures.
A mid-sized sailing ship with an embedded Shard of the Storm.
Fiery-Feathered Phembu, the First Among Pheasants, went to Moeqhu-Qaz, the Leader of the Seven Sand Dragons!
A potion that contains the essence of Courage… In a way.
Made by an anarchist trying to seed dissent, the potions actually work better than normal potions of understanding languages ... sort of.
This item is silly.
A druid obsessed with Nature’s cycle of death has created a horrendous spore in a plot to rid the lands of a swiftly growing town that has begun to encroach upon his forest.
A metal found deep in the bowels of the earth. It stays warm even after years away from the forge.
Soft of voice, light of eye, dark of hair, and also of heart, Hippomenes the Fearful holds the province of Colistia in an iron grip.
A particularly volatile element, Imuricum is found in Adamantite covered by Red Mui’aan Fungus. Only the greatest of alchemists dare attempt extracting Raw Imuricum; only the most foolish metallurgists mix it with inferior materials, and only the bravest blacksmiths will create weapons from this rare and dangerous metal.
A natural stone with a hole in the center and gift from the earth to the lucky finder.
A sword made by ancestors, of ancestors, for desendants. The spirits of the warriors gone before help serve this blade’s master in battle.
With a huge number of sacrificial victims, another realm long ago secretly bound a Prince of the land spirits, Iorstonn by name, thus ensuring the fertility, and improving the magical defences, of their realm. But binding that Prince to one spot has disrupted the weather and magical patterns (ley lines?) over half the continent. Things have become bad enough that a coalition has been formed to rectify the situation, once divinations have established the cause.
Your party is one of the teams assembled to do the rectification: find the binding object and steal it ("so that we can destroy it here in our realm, of course"...*) or destroy it over there. Presumably the Prince will be grateful to his rescuers and angry at the binders, but with a greater spirit like Iorstonn one can never be sure: such beings are "tricksy".
* Of course, the rulers of our realm might want to control Iorstonn for their own ends...