"That one, you might want to be careful with that. It doesn't like people..."
"A potion? "
"We fought the li'l beasties," the gruff old Dwarf growled, "so where the blazes is their treasure!"
Glacier grinned, "Just give me a second, I know how to find it."
Pretty smoke rings? Naw, I can do a lot more than that.
There's nothing like a good, full pipe after a day of slaying.
When a situation calls for more than Soma, but less than Nerve Stapling, there's Lybrium
Gotta have dat juice!
Golgotha, Shadowrunner and notorious Juicer
Chrome is the one of the most popular Superbrands in the Cosmic Era
'Cmon and drink up. This potion will really help us understand each other, if you know what I mean.
A list of 30 more wines, none of which are vinted by humans, elves, or dwarves.
One of the strangest weapons deployed by Z'pl'rt the Mad
This ever-full, ever-surprising, ever-ridiculous flask contains a magical liquid that may be the best or worst thing you've ever drank. Handling with caution won't do you any good.
Made out of the tail-hairs of a Girsh. Enhances perception.
There are hundreds if not thousands of liquors throughout all the lands, but few ever manage to stand out from the rest. The defining trait between a run of the mill booze and a rare and special spirit can often be a gimmick. This is what master brewer Donovan learned all too well.
Drink deep from the Moon-Cup, let its powers quench your thirst, or even save your marriage.
One drop for a cluster of flowers, three drops for a tree, no more, no less.
Discovered by accident by a snacking alchemist, Two Flask Halo has become known as an effective and reliable source of combustion sought after by many adventurers.
Fanaticism can be just as dangerous as fire. Spreading like fire, it could spark rebellion and could lead towards violence. As a way to curb devotion to the abstract, king Hareth of Garilroot asked his Mages to come up with a solution for those too invested in an ideal.
"See that one, with the burn scars and dark veins? Don't stick too close; he shoots fireblood before engagements. Keeps friends and foes alike at bay, it does."
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.