I am the mask that grins and lies
I'll hide your face and shield your eyes....
Ever want to be half-man half-horse? Probably not, but these shoes can make it happen.
Ruan was the first of Tarak’s troops to disappear. When it was time for him to take a turn at watch, his bedroll was empty, and tracks led away from the campsite.
Ã¢??Come now, children, and gather round the hearth. I have a story to tell of love and sorrow and a death, and the things left behindÃ¢?Â¦Ã¢?Â the old crone said.
None could deny that the Torner the Fearless’ heartbroken widow did mourning well.
Yazzard hasn’t been the same since getting struck by lightning. Neither has his cloak.
The bearer of this cloak believes it makes him invisible to the rest of the world, but the pure irony is that the cloak only makes him more noticable.
The leather has held out nicely over the years, of course, it’s magical. And their surefootedness is quite remarkable. Pity everyone thinks you’re daft for wearing them.
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 white silken mask with burnt edges. A white little mask which eventually led it’s wearer to be burnt at the stake.
These extremely potent gloves are otherwise, and more commonly known as the “Telekinetic Gauntlets”.
Are you a weakling mage that cant lift a sword to save yourself? Well then, look no further.
At first glance,this modest looking cloak made of black leather,seems to be the perfect blessing for anyone literally wanting to become someone else.
The price it exacts fom the wearer however,is a fate worse than death..
A cloak that turns all those who look at the wearer into a quivering mass of tears.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...