In Aelfa’s arms, have I left my anvil…
These were the last words of Davyd, the last master alchemist of the Old World, upon his deathbed. For nine centuries many have sought out Aelfa to find the anvil so that they might create weapons of power equivalent to those crafted during the height of the Old World.
Salvation to oneself is bought through the salvation of others…
These are artifacts of an earlier age. The Wells are symbols of a great power, that of the Eternal Flame, now lost to Humanity.
Or is it?
It is only the size of a thumb, but when this spakling stone burns with an inner fire, the destiny of holder changes.
Flame burns hot, bringing warmth, life, and hope. Anti-Fire burns too, but it devours heat, and saps the will of life. Before the world could be inhabited, all of the coldfire, and anti-fire had to be collected an hidden away safely. The gods did this, placing it in an urn of brass and hiding it away from the world.
Even though the Gods struggle so, their achievements are temporary at best.
For all beings must dream, and within those dreams dwell the Dreamer.
Come then and succumb to the lord, come then and enter the realm of sleep.
Come then taste the nectar, made of the tears of the dreamer.
-The 5th verse in the Book of the Dreaming Cult
Harbouring the accumalated memories of generations of the Uluun,it offers either great wisdom or raving insanity.
The Magenta Rose. A keystone item, its presence defines history. It is a rosebush, an Elven construct, a living reminder, which signifies the relationship between two kingdoms at odds.
Lacking in ornamentation, the Black Spear is a relic more than 8000 years old
A staff of great power in the hands off those who manipulate the strands of fate.
The Seven Lords of the Peninsulari each wore a magical signet ring identifying them as a sovereign lord.
Most feared of the Regalia of Dominion, the Ruby Sceptre is a terrifying weapon in the hands of a skilled fire mage.
A legendary relic, suited to base a campaign around, with the power of Creation crystallized in a single milky seed…
The shattered remnants of a divine weapon, a certain amount of power remains in these bits of celestial metal.
The finest creations of the gemsmith Sinnameron, the Stones somehow always manage to find their way to the proper people.
Nobody knows how many were made or who the creator was. It is only known that in need, the blades always appear to those that are worthy. They lift those they choose into places of power and use that influence to rage a millennium old war.
Once a year, the king steps down from his throne, and lives as a peasant for one day, the next day is the anniversary of his coronation, and it is celebrated by a reenactment of the ceremony. This is doubly beneficial, firstly, because the people are able to have the grand parade that always precedes the ceremony. Secondly, because the heir to the throne is given a day on the job every year. Although, apparently, the thought has not yet come to one of the kingdoms enemies, the assassination of the king during the renewal coronation would be a moral, as well as a political blow to the kingdom.