The tomb robber smashed his way into the royal barrow, and shone his torch around. Painted upon the walls was a fresco of a king pulling a sword from a stone, and in front of the sarcophagus was a large lump of lead with a sword hilt within it. He pulled at the hilt and grinned as a sword with it’s blade glowing a soft green emerged from the lead, wondering how much money he could sell it for.
In seeking to escape serving the Lord of Ravens many a hope flickered and died, for those who oppose him end up serving him after all.
The grave robber grinned as he left the royal barrow, his pockets full of stolen gold, and dressed in a helmet and chainmail shirt stolen from the now naked, decomposing body of the king. The explosion that followed ten seconds after he stepped into the sunlight wiped the smile from his face and blew his body into pieces. Had he studied metallurgy, he would have known that the armour was made of pure Orthacarium and he would have left it alone, and escaped the barrow with his life.
Once wielded by the priests of the Jackal God Uep-Hawet, their heirs will suffer no others to possess it…
Rustcaller Toxin is not a tool of assassination, but instead a weapon of random terror.
Revenge, but at what cost?
A brace of sleep-related poisons.
The Heretic Corvius bore a silken banner into battle, a blood-red standard embroidered with the ominous figure of a serpent.
..The inn was filled with the sounds of leather creaking and seams bursting, as muscles swelled and grew dramatically. Then came shouts of fury and rage as the mob began charging outside, into what would be a very bloody night.
They say diamonds are a woman’s best friend.
But should she prove unfaithful, they can also be her worst enemy, the instrument of her utter destruction. The whore will pay a heavy price for her infidelity, I swear!
A fine suit of armour that provides protection, but from what?
A crossbow bolt crafted from the deepest shadows, which infects those struck with a terrible spiritual corruption.
In the southernmost reaches of the southernmost lands, among sun-baked golden hills and rocky ruins, the cities of Gor Kull offer travelers and citizens a plethora of sinful concoctions, powders, and draughts, born of a wicked desire to addle the mind and befuddle the eye. Yet, should ye wish to arm oneself with knowledge against such evil brews, I present such guide.
Dedicated to the gods of death and darkness…
Great things happen when leaders put their heads together…
Engine Prototype #4 was built as a siege weapon to break the standstill while trying to breach the Elven city of Cullebra. It’s new offensive system dubbed the Arcane Mortar , is viewed as one of the most destructive forces in all Terescence.
Yet another cloak of shadows…
Originally a failed invention, the usefulness of Nurin beads have since been redifined for a more nefarious purpose. Those who know of the usefulness of these gems are able to get whatever they want from their most hated enemy, and incriminate them just hours later.
A crude and appearently worthless trinket, this tawdry bit of finery would attract no notice at all, disregarded as as just foolish vanity on the part of an improvished peasant or labourer.
But mind you don’t lose one of these when you’re on the errand of some powerful guild leader. He’ll be sure to skin you for that.
The endless dark of the depths, the strength of the tsunami, the drowning embrace of the cold, these are the
The Church of the one true God guards a terrible secret: Their God is dying. He is kept within a tank, steamworks forever pumping to keep him alive, clockwork engines forcing his laboured breathing.