“Yes, these boots are very fine,” said Smoke’s Empty Lens, “But I do not care for them, nor for you.”
Firefly River wept a single tear and went away…
Fiery-Feathered Phembu, the First Among Pheasants, went to Moeqhu-Qaz, the Leader of the Seven Sand Dragons!
Many men have looked at the birds and envied thier innocent flight, and looked at the fish and envied thier serene swimming. Felonious Twist was a mage that saw a connection.
A cloak that turns all those who look at the wearer into a quivering mass of tears.
A set of gloves crafted by none other than our friendly resident soul-mage, Tarquin. Designed specifically to give a physical attack that is effective even with his weak body.
Invented by a pragmatic clothier and a wizard-for-hire, the Tourniquet Tunic is made for use on the battlefield.
A dark emperors gloves that make an excelent weapon and torture tool.
A pair of soft velvet skull caps which promote the virtues of rationality, logic and good judgement.
Getting the favour of a Necromancer, and asking for a magical cloak? Sure, why not.
The old boots of a farmer long dead. The hole in the bottom sudjests many things. But its cursed P’owers go B’eyond just a boot.
The dead will think you one of their own with this handy, though disturbing, piece of equipment.
Stone Gauntlets crafted from the hands of a Stone Golem that are both beneficial and a burden to the user…
Ever wish you looked a little tougher than you actually are? Well, the Cowl of False Reputation has you covered.
These magical gloves will make sure your fancy suit isn’t ruined by the odd stain or spill.
Simple cloth armour with a not so simple secret.
A weird way to carry and conceal your stuff.
A simple leather harness covered with an odd assortment of axes.
Great getaway boots
“First, I nibbled on his earlobe. Then, I bit into it, letting the red, red blood roll down his neck. Then, when he screamed and started tearing at me, I ripped the flesh from his hand. Ah, it tasted so good! Yes, yes! Then, I ripped through his jugular, and bit through his spine! Yessss…..”
bra, holding, concealment, sexy
The old clock tower stands tall, but the bulk of the uppermost storey is crumbling and unsafe, with gaping cracks in the walls. The metal struts and girders supporting the great bronze bells are still intact, though, and the bells survive. The grotesque gargoyles and arabesques which decorated the original design have either fallen into the street (once or twice a year more bricks fall from the tower, prompting calls for its demolition) or have been defaced, but the main doors to the clock tower are still intact and show signs of being kept in working order. This is the home of The Captains, clad in raggedy clothes, with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor. They live to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wims ghost keeps the core of a childs innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders. They are a group of street children who live in the clock tower. Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they’re all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.