Books of all kinds and purposes, their short summaries as well as wide descriptions, come and enjoy.
A collection of 30 bardic tales you may hear sung in the local tavern or empresses' court, complete with bardic verse excerpts from all 30 tales themselves.
Many of these tales can also be used as quick plug in adventures for Gm's looking for a side quest. (And let the players exploits be turned into the song by a near by bard perhaps?)
A strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret…
“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…
The words which lie herein are a documentary of the Ouzala - the Weapon of the Ouzquin Dremorix - And the enchantments of Axtrami.
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…
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.
These are not ordinary gems, these are Thrar Stones. They are rocks that have been caught in the trunks of growing trees. Over thousands of years they are forged from stone to gem.
“Your eye, your eye!” crowed Imupokith, the Sea-Witch, and Vruthath, clutching his bleeding socket, held out his hand.
Upon the palm was a staring green eye.
Flame burns hot, bringing warmth, life, and hope. Anti-Fire burns too, but it devours heat, and saps the will of life. Before the world could be inhabited, all of the coldfire, and anti-fire had to be collected an hidden away safely. The gods did this, placing it in an urn of brass and hiding it away from the world.
Inspired by Ria Hawk’s Mirror of Doom, this thread is for items that could be found in a Garage Sale from Hell.
Never buy your potions from the Discount Dealer…
So they defeated the horde of impoverished peasants armed with farm implements. Now they want to loot the bodies…
As if there was not enough siliness around…
A type of silk woven from tree saps
Treasured texts of the infamous Doctor Alcomb.
Few things shine as bright as the jewels of Hell
The teeth and fingerbones of holy men and more
“...Ande in the Dayes of the War, the masses of the darke ones grew into a greate ande terrible force, ande thus were the Fyve Armours sent unto the worlde…”
~The Grynthar Codex, chapter three verse ten
The weapon to all appearences will appear to be a +5 sword until in battle when a qualified person swings the suddenly heavily unbalanced sword.
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...