A polished flake of porous stone, stained a deep, rusted brown, this once-hallowed knife contains traces of the eldest of magics.
A close quarters combat weapon, and one of the more vicious ways to ruin someone's day
A royal heirloom passed down from the original dwarven deep-king Hjotar Zan Madroszal. Also known as the hammer of delayed oomph.
The grudging gift of thankful mermen, a fine blade with a bit of baggage.
Two halberds that were made for each other.
A magic knife - when it hits a target, it can age them by centuries, and may de-age the user.
A destroyed Kingdom of the Moon, Imbria was lost and it's flotsam of debris rained down on Earth. Among the treasures of shattered Imbria were it's Ancient Swords
"Though he walk through the most dangerous ghetto in the city, he shall fear no evil with Lawboon by his side."
Once upon a time this sword may have been a sight to behold, but no more. Rust and decay now tarnish the metal of this forgotten relic, and those who stumble upon it are more likely to toss it than use it.
A sword with a mission
Six gruesome blades forged from dwarven blood in the pits of ancient bol-Pakash. Six knives the dwarves wish never existed.
Tis but a scratch, send the guards and make sure they capture that joke of an assassin
A special sword that benefits from cleaving skulls at its owner's command.
“You will all die for what you have done to me!” Van Torxes hissed. As his face reddened with anger, he stormed out of the room towards his chambers.
The Shay-Keded, or “Sand-Slaughter” is a magical kopesh hailing from the forgotten deserts of Nehekhara. The blade steals the life-force of its victims into potent magical energy for its wielder. However, it holds a great curse that backlashes the wielder if the magical energy absorbed by the blade is not spent…
All it takes for evil to triumph is for Ennui to convince good men to do nothing.
The leader of the Seven Brave inhabits this arrogant weapon.
The deadliest Sinblade, Wrathbringer is coveted by the violent and feared by all.
Sometimes, an item is not enchanted, but instead, a person's acts resonate so strongly across the planes of magic that their touch is forever remembered on the physical world. This is the tale of such an item.
A thaumatechnological weapon, an example of the marriage between intricate technological innovation and sophisticated magic engineering.
In a small inn (the more remote the better), a man turns up dead. There are no wounds on his body what-so-ever, and he aboslutely reeks of garlic.
The man died of a curse that forced him to eat a clove of garlic a day or suffer the penalty. This gets really interesting if the body somehow appears on top of a someone the villagers are suspcious of.