The two gently-humming, crystal-studded blades are semi-transparent and sharpened to a deadly razor edge. The haft between the blades is decorated with brilliant multi-colored crystals. The balance and craftsmanship are perfect. You feel that these trusty blades will never fail you.
He struck out hard with the blade, cutting his foe down to the bone in the arm that held the weapon , only to feel agony in his own sword arm as if it too had been cut right down to the bone. As he dropped his blade due to the shock and two more opponents closed in to cut him down, he realised to his horror that his blade was a Feeling Sword and that he was unlikely to survive this fight.
I had me a dream once. Just after I *acquired* this here knife. Only the knife was a bit shinier and I was in an alley somewhere. I dunno, maybe it was Brie or Holsten, someplace like that. Anyways, I'm walking down this alley when I comes across some dumb bloke trying to shortcut his way to market. Like *my* alley is a god-d**ned thoroughfare for just anyone!
"This sword! It's helping me connect all the dots!"
"Yeah, even the dots that don't exist!"
This sword may not look like much, but it will probably save your life.
"Surely, you wouldn't deprive an old man of his walking stick?" Uh, yeah- you probably should.
The Sword of Huran is the chosen weapon of The Order of the Spellswords. Each one of them crafts their own Sword of Huran to serve them in their battles for the king.
Devjuha backed away from the engaged foe, his opposite wand moving further out. He held the rod sideways, bracing it against his chest. Then ran, full speed, to the right. He caught an unwary opponent, lingering near the edge of the battle, right in the neck with the vicious assault from his Rod of Duality.
A mighty Demon, now trapped and confused, may make for a powerful ally.
A favored weapon for rogue/thief followers of the Sun God.
"All I could do was stare as my strange opponent hefted his key-like lance. He told me my armor would only hinder me in this fight. I didn’t believe him at the time, but he was right."
A hilt built like a ceremonial goblet, and not the nice kind, a hideous blade of ash and flame erupt from the lip. To wield this blade is to forsake the Heavens and thrust the power of Hell into your foes.
As the sun set, the holy monk of Jove muttered a word and the tip of his staff flared into flame like a torch, without being burned or scorched in any way by it's own holy fire. He carried on his way without fear of being sneaked up on or stepping off the path in the dark.
Pelta'na'astal'i'ke'kisher - The Spear that Sundered the Stars
The spear of the Goddess Renga, who gave the gift of the Hunt to the Kel'Regar.
The Staff of the Zythumancer can bring the most helpless alcoholic into the embrace of sobriety or turn a tetotaller into a useless drunk with a simple tap to the head.
A black sword, blessed with elemental power, and tainted with hatred and rage
“Oh the shark has pretty teeth, dear, / And he shows them pearly white. / Just a jack-knife has Macheath / And he keeps it out of sight.” - Bertolt Brecht
As soon as he had set his eyes upon The Sword of all Swords he knew it must be the perfect blade for him. And he would stop at nothing to possess it!
A collection of unconventional weapons
The ochre sands stretch for miles around. Something kicks up the dust. It's a yak. A desert-yak. It ambles slowly, nuzzling the ground for the low-growing shrubs. The ranger freezes. "Stay very still," he warns. "Don't move at all."
"What is it?" you ask, breathlessly.
"It's the most dangerous creature in the whole Ocadian desert. And it's about to eat that yak..."