Relics of an ancient necromantic faith: A few strange charms and a small black book. What power do these odd devices hide?
The peddler was pulling odd things from his pack, extolling each as he laid them down – one shoe that changed colors, a knife carved from wood, a mummified bird. “And this,” he said, pulling a 1 foot square box of stone out of his pack, “is all the friends you will ever need.” He opened it up, showing the carved stone statues of warriors inside. He took one out and stood it on the ground, where it changed to flesh and blood, stretched, then pulled the sword from its sheath and saluted them with it. “An army in your pocket! For a mere thousand gold! A bargain!”
Named for Corran, the epitome of artificers and craftsmen; the flame of creation is often too powerful to control.
A magical pair of glasses once allowed the sharpest of minds to perceive the physical world around him. His cutting insight, throwing light on the darkest of secrets, is now housed within the spectacles.
A hulking testament to the authority, affluence, and capability of the Yerisian Regime
"No, don't touch...that. Too late."
A horrible torture device. Not for the squeamish.
A simple metal bucket, capable of holding a bucket of water, or as it happens, a lifetime of effort.
A candle inside of a skull is a typical creepy feature in cultist's lairs or haunted places, but what if they served a more practical purpose?
Like the Tiny Hut only better.
Necromancers have a common answer to most questions. This is a spell that one Necromancer invented in order to answer the question, "How do I get off this ship?".
A simple way to a fate most dreadful.
A sleek design that fits a considerable punch into a slim package, the Scorpio is a Hovertank hated by both sides of a conflict, for different reasons.
A twist on the old.
The secret device behind the most feared corrosive substance to ever plague the mortal realms.
Fandune screamed as the inmate’s hands locked around his neck. With quick thinking and a little luck he managed to mutter the right words and waggle his fingers perfectly for the curse. The inmates fingers bent back upon themselves and were rendered useless.
"Hey, I actually enchanted something! Wow!"
Teeth: small, durable, and full of potential, if one only knows how to tap it.
"And 3..2..1..Smile!" *flash* *thump* "Mwahaha."
A rather odd item that just a little bit morbid
Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.