A portmanteau of Kaku and engram. Dr. Kaku of the middle Petrol era posited the quantification of human emotion, while an engram is a cybertechnological recording of a human mind, a snapshot of a mental or emotional state.
Seven more magical rings, each with a very different enchantment on it.
Two rival wizards. You can guess what happens. Yes, one flays the other naturally, but is interrupted half-way through the skinning ritual...
You begin to feel funny. Your head becomes clouded as you approach the evil wizard. Wait, you shouldn't attack the wizard. He's done nothing wrong to you. Your party members are wrong. They lied to you. You should attack them!
...You come to your senses after a momentary black-out. You have blood on your sword. The bard is bleeding and the rest of your fellow party members have their weapons drawn and are poised to attack you. And you can hear the evil wizard behind you chuckling.
You don't need a pipe or a heavenly voice to draw a crowd with this in your hands.
The most frequent weak point targeted on a human being is the skull. Pulp the brain, and the body becomes worthless. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to armor the head.
The Cromwell Chassis is specifically the mechanical remains of Major James 'Cyborg' Westerland, but the term has spread to include the pattern of cybernetic upgrade Westerland pioneered.
The next generation in designer engineering, the new skin.
Muse is both a common term for a handheld Cognet linking device, and also a specific brand of said CogLink device. Functionally the Cosmic Era version of a smartphone
The combat catalog of Cyberdyne Systems, the primary defense contractor of Cascadia.
A female specific armor manufactured in the New Themyscira, and readily available through most of the civilized world.
The Bastard Axe is a common weapon of the warriors of Vikingheim, a sturdy weapon that can be used with one or two hands, or simply thrown at an enemy
A relatively common magical item from the city of Lionguard
"There are some mages who can travel to the Nine Hells and back, and others still who can create their own planes of existence. But these stones... these so-called Peresallapides Stones... If one were to obtain one of these... Well, that would be entirely different. That person would be able to traverse reality as a whole, albeit against their will, as if it were naught but our own Material Plane. They would be able to explore other multiverses entirely, where there is no concept of good or evil, or perhaps where only one of the two has simply always existed without the other holding it back. Perhaps some realities do not even contain a speck of arcane or divine energy. What a dull reality indeed. I can only imagine that a world like that would be quite unstable, prone to racial infighting and disease, among many other things, considering there would be absolutely no magic to assist in the resolving of these issues."
An ancient weapon, forged by the First Ones, the terrible power of Order's Reach is as much a consequence of the nature of reality as it is blessed by the Divine.
“So, my sisters.” I gazed out the clerestory window at the tableau in Court Square, and I made no doubt my gaze was as stony as were the rest of the Conclave. “I see what you see. Is there truly no doubt?”
“None,” said Mother Arathena, with a bitter hiss. “That jackal bitch has the true Sword. Captain Noran saw her hack through half the enemy cohort to reach the postern gate, and I know Noran to be a reliable man.” She swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away from the spectacle outside. “But – but how? How was It found, after so long?”
“Lady’s Grace, who cares? Dueled with dragons or bought it from a peddler, what boots it? The question is this: what do we do?” Arathena's mouth was set, at my query; she didn’t know. Neither did the others.
Neither did I.
This could have made Johnny Appleseed's job that much easier!
An insidious creature, most likely somehow "related" to trappers and lurkers, the Dead Leaves (for no other name exists as of yet for this foul thing), hibernates for three of the four year's seasons, deep underground. Its active time is Autumn, when trees shed their leaves, depositing colorful carpets across the ground. The terror then emerges and blends in with the surrounding leaves, perfectly camouflaged, waiting patiently for unsuspecting victims. In appearance it resembles nothing more than a ten foot square, six inch thick, layer of bright yellow, orange, and red leaves. The only hint that someone is walking on top of it, comes in the form of an unusual amplified sound of leaves crunching underfoot. Too late usually, the victims notice this additional "crunch". The Dead Leaves will then swirl and "rise" up to smother and suffocate the victim, like a colorful, malevolent, boa constrictor.
Fire, as can be imagined, is particularly effective against this creature, but one has to *know* it's there before putting it to the torch. And there's the rub. The creature is impossible to "identify" in a large patch of fallen leaves by eyesight alone.
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Common sense and the rule of cool clash over the role of the bow in the hypertech setting of the Cosmic Era