A sturdy, primitive Pictish axe
A spear that reflects the life of it’s owner trough small Haiku like poems. As the soldier lives his life the spear casts a shadow of his great exploits. Small runes are carefully etched in the ash shaft after a great battle or another important event in the warriors life.
All that was left on the battlefield that day was a worn rusty sword, with BELIGITOR etched in the Blade.
“So this is the sword of Crog, the legendary hero…right?” This weapon may prove that psychology can be better than magic.
The demon stood before him laughing, “That puny sword can’t touch me.”
Without a word the man turned the blade so that the edge faced the demon, he ran ducked under the demons fist and slashed through the stomach of the foul creature. “How?”Â The demon asked.
“You have been found guilty!” Spoke Nemisis*
*before the Battle of Fate
Thousands of orcs chant in unison as their champion and chieftan raises the black iron morningstar, they chant for the hammer of the underworld, the unbeatable weapon of orcdom.
Formed entirely of shadowstuff, Ranunculus passes through matter and living things. While objects are unaffected by its passing, living creatures, when struck, are stunned and descend instantly into madness, effectively removing them from any battle. Upon spoken command, Ranunculus will instantly return to its owner’s hand.
Touched by the gods, this ancient blade is also called the Hero’s Sword, Trevor’s Folly, and Fooldoom depending on which song or tale is being told about it.
Ghostly flaming apparition of a blade, slayer of spectres and all that is ethereal, wielded by its durable hilt inlaid in gold, silver, ivory and white pearls. It can turn the tide when fighting the intangible.
“Odd style, you present yourself with.”
“Yes indeed, it suits me well enough.”
::lunge:: ::parry:: ::cross:: ::reposte:: ::parry::
“Strange you lead with your dagger, yet you attack in defend with your right…”
“I’d honor you with a flourish from my left but that would hardly be fair…”
“First blood it is, on guard!”
When the Reverend Fury had his old sword reforged, it was done for one purpose: to assist him in his quest to wipe the undead from the earth.
A legendary sword used to hunt enemy leaders.
A legendary sword that might save your life.
A legendary axe—once you are hit, there is no escape.
Sometimes a sword’s value is not determined by magical properties, of gilding and jewels. Sometimes it’s value comes from it’s deeds and it’s history
This weapon is a fine basket-hilted broadsword, with a long sharp iron blade and an aura of power about it that can be sensed faintly by everybody. Those who pick it up for the first time feel safer with the sword in their hand then without it.A large purple amythest jewel is set in the sword’s basket hilt. The user senses that if they press the emerald, others will become scared of them…
This rod was created by the great mage Nani. She died before the final incantation was finished and so the rod lacks much of its intended power…
“Across my back rests the Scorpion’s Tail; a long, narrow, scythe-like thorn forged of Bronzed Imuricum, tempered with the blood of the Dragonkind, those ancient scourges of man, and sharpened against scale and talon alike.”
Some might call it a clawed glove. That would be Anthrocentric. It, and items like it, are magic weapons for being that use magic and do not use weapons, but use their claws. The Clawed Races uses these "claws" to enhance their natural combative ability.
The silver and gold longsword of a knight of flame.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?