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.
Invented by a pragmatic clothier and a wizard-for-hire, the Tourniquet Tunic is made for use on the battlefield.
...In the hallowed halls of the University of Linnarson a glimpse may sometimes be caught of the Senior Masters, learned sages and masters of knowledge. They seldom leave their dusty studies full of learned tomes, other than to dine - each evening they will be found shuffling down the dimly lit corridors to the dark and shuttered Great Hall. After feasting at high table by candlelight they will be gone, returning once more to their studies. None but they know of their pact with death, how they have willingly embraced an eternal undeath in which to pursue knowledge, yet this is the reason for the darkened corridors and the shuttered hall, for those who are undead cannot abide the light of the sun…
A curiously designed ring - but not uncommon. Similar in design to most traditional ‘magi-rings’, which often hold enchantments on them. But unlike those rings, this one may take quite a hold on you…
To the primitive tribes on the plains of North, life changes rapidly from season to season. In summer, food is abundant. In the winter, death from starving is never far. A natural phenomenon helped one such tribe.
Most advenurers have been forced to do a stint as caravan guards at some point in their career, just to see them through hard times. One would hope that they’d learned enough from the experience to pull off a successful raid themselves. The only catch - they mustn’t kill anybody.
Carmo keeps a shop in the backstreets of Erezi. It’s not often visited, Carmo makes people feel…uneasy. Even the veterans of the Erezi underworld are uncomfortable being alone with Carmo. But they need to buy their traps from somewhere…
There was He, and there was She. And She was shy of men at first, always being told to distrust them. But He taught Her what love is, and promised Her everything he could. And they lived in happiness, and their love was perfect, for the rest of their lives.
This ice-crafted armor is a gift from the three-aspected Goddess of Water to her chosen.
A beautiful warrior woman, with a sword and soul of ice.
A little prank that has found its uses. Shaving razor.
The bronze half plate of the Flame Knight, this armor serves to protect the wearer with the blessing of the Lord of Fire.
A culture must hide its hands in the arm of their clothing as a sign of respect and peace. When approaching somebody you show them respect by crossing your arms and hiding the hands in the shirt sleeves. Nobody worries about hidden knives and such, it is the threat of magic that this custom was created to prevent.