Fear ye not the sorcerer’s might / for ye be wreathed in Baunumdraung’s light!
Space, and indeed, the outdoors in general, usually lack cover stout enough to stand up to heavy lasers and plasma weapons. This man portable unit is one designed solution to the rule.
Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.
Ogelend, Border Reiver
Like the heated embrace of a lover, this singular thing caresses and binds itself around the chest of the wearer, linkings its fate with his to the end of his days…
It was Young Jim’s first battle. He was known for being a tireless worker in the field and a very patriotic young man. But he didn’t understand this strange armor they put him in… And he didn’t know it would be the Last Armor he ever wore.
A sentinel, a defender of humanity, standing against the hosts of the eternal night.
In seeking to escape serving the Lord of Ravens many a hope flickered and died, for those who oppose him end up serving him after all.
Those who wear this item are usually laughed at and scorned for its appearance at first. It looks odd adorning the head of any warrior as it always seems a little too small and its thin strap that secures it in place seems far to fragile and loose to keep it in place when worn in a melee. However, when the wake of its powers catches up to those who scorn, their attitudes and lives change abruptly. The knowledge about this helm is vague but throughout history, events of a chaotic nature seem to follow in the path of this item, sowing the seeds of disorder and discord. However it is when all four of these set items are found and placed together, does true havoc reign.
Few things are more important to a warrior than to ensure that his… coddes… are well protected, and Red Hatchet was no exception…
The Cuirass of the Winds can litraly blow one’s attackers away, but the wearer should take care, for it’s loyalty lies elsewhere…
A fine suit of armour that provides protection, but from what?
Dedicated to the gods of death and darkness…
Disclaimer: Damage sustained to your power suit while crushing your enemies throats is not covered under warranty, and IDC will in no way be held responsible.
This item has been moved about the lands throughout the ages, lost and found by various people. Always it seems that the unsuspecting are the usual and unfortunate ones to find them. It is vague but throughout history events of misfortune and chaotic nature seem to follow in the path of this item, sowing the seeds of disorder and discord. However it is when all four of these set items are found and placed together, does anarchy truly reign.
Twin Shards of the Storm reforged to work in concert, the Gauntlets of the Fallen Frost grant the user power over winter’s weather, but at a certain price…
And from your enemies your only shield shall be blood, and in it you shall thrive.
-Passage from the Samahhi
This is a light armor developed by a smart -now master- alchemist. It is a light, gives decent protection, is of high quaility and thin enough to not be noticable in public. In short the perfect armor for travellers that don’t want draw attention to themselves.
The Armour of Arrogance would seem to be the answer to a coward’s prayer, but he or she normally ends up wishing that it had never been worn, for it exacts a price of it’s own that may be even worse then the price of cowardice.
the ‘‘genjist’’ armor is a powerful armor used by a legendary hero. it provides a subtle yet comforting feel.
raises defence by 200
The Cursed form of poor Shump Thokk. He will offer helpful advice to anyone who dons the helmet.
Idea from the Aeneid. Could make an intriguing encounter when searching for firewood..."Quite near there happened to be a mound of earth, at the highest part of which were growing thickets of cornel and a dense cluster of spiky myrtle-stems. I went up there and tried to wrench the green growth from the ground to provide a leafy covering for our altar. There I was confronted by a horrible and astounding miracle. For from the first bush which I tried to break off...blood oozed in dark drops, fouling the earth with its spots...A piteous moan came from the base of the mound and I heard a human voice answering me: 'Why, Aeneas, must you rend a poor sufferer? I am buried here...for I am Polydorus. Here death overpowered me in a crop of piercing iron-pointed spears. And so a crop resembling javelins has grown over me...'"