This mighty polearm contains the bound and unwilling spirit of a daemon, who’s dearest desire is eternal vengance on the one who bound him.
Sacred tools of protection granted to those who must travel in the name of the One God, these lightly made, weighted gloves are easily overlooked.
To the holder of the DwarfSlayer it is said that the very mountians will allow access, but he or she will be amongst Dwarves the most hated person on the planet.
A warhammer with liquefying powers.
Forged from the stuff of legends by a great Sacre-Sorcerer. Grants the wielder a variety of different powers throughout the day and night.
Great things happen when leaders put their heads together…
Two fully sentient enchanted scimitars.
A simple knife, designed to hold its poison far longer than a blade with poison simply smeared over it.
For eight centuries Elric’s Silver Hammer has been buried in his barrow with him-a terrible fate for a sentinent weapon. Is it any wonder that it has got a little crazy after all those years?
The Demonslayer… ironically created by the very creatures it was designed to kill.
This is the first of the four elemental weapons made by the high elves of Seraith
It is said that this sacred sword can move fire and earth to defend it’s wearer, but the truth is uncertain.Some say it’s powers must surely be only myth, others that it is the most dangerous weapon in the Kingdom.
These magnificent warhammers were created during the War of the Elder races, a war between the Elves and the Dwarves. Made for Elven clerics to use in battle against their dangerous foes.
Queen Amber of Vallermoore was distressed by the number of amputations that were nescessary to deal with the crimewave after she came to power. So she ordered her wizards to come up with something to make amputation reversable, whilst retaining some value as a punishment.And so the Avenger was made.
The story I am about to tell you is one of magic and of monsters, of bravery and courage, of good and of evil, but most importantly of Flame and he who wished to quench it - Old Cro, the story teller.
These are the traditional honor weapons of the legendary Blades of the Golden Sun. It is with these weapons that they defended the Imperial Realm from the Taint of Shadow. Or so some say.
“Masterful Ares, god of war you place me in this dread place far from my home, no friends or family, and only you to talk to. Still even you seem never to answer. I have served you many a century and still you wont answer my prayer, well this last prayer I will send with all the blood of the men of this world if you will send me home.” Paladrim, his final prayer to Ares
When L’ruhk was banished to the Nothing Beyond Creation, he returned at the head of a demonic army, wielding a spear black as his corrupted soul.
The endless dark of the depths, the strength of the tsunami, the drowning embrace of the cold, these are the
A dark dagger of song, forged for vengance. It shall have that vengance.
The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.
The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.
The forest of flesh is waking up, and it is so very hungry.