Lightning steel is a miraculous metal formed from an alloy of iron, carbon, silver and pure captured lightning.
The Essence of Light, mined from the body of a fallen Star-Child.
A magical Salt, a dangerous bane against ice and snow…
Crystals have long be heralded as recepticals of magic power. Ice too, is a crystal.
A metal with the properties of ordinary gold, which has the properties of pure silver when covered with water.
"What does this marveous ointment do you ask? It’s easily worth the 50 gold an ounce I’m selling it to you for my friend, I can promise you that. ... You still want to know what it does? Well, it ... it sorta ... and then it ... Here! Just try a sample here and see!"
"kara diamos ica" the wind stopped, and for a moment he was deaf to the world, and then his hearing returned.
as he looked around him and his bod began to warm agian after hours of finding a spot to shelter from the winter strom that was raging in the skies.
"IT WORKED!, im safe, now i only need to make my way to the academy"
Pantarbe, floating rock, skystone, drifting earth…
A magical, multi-dimensional crystal that damages all it touches, even reality.
Developed in a number of places any number of times, MoonInk has been applied in any number of ways.
A piece of crystallized magic.
A glowing green stone flowing with the elemental power of evil
A useful magical metal with a dynamic nature.
In the interplay between nations, espionage has always been a tool of statecraft. Those realms with magic have opened to them many more tools for application to spycraft.
Anything is possible with the capricous power of this Glyph.
A Magical Stone, look into it and see what you need to, but beware…
Dorlyanic Crystal is a substance from which the ancient Dorlyans, godling-race of a distant planet, forged their mighty weapons. Weapons made from it cleave the flesh of the supernatural and the extraterrestrial like a hot knife through butter.
A substance, born of the cold and adapted to the warmth of the human world. Its natural state is a mercury type liquid but when held in frozen conditions the wielder may will it to take any form desired. Their only limit is the amount of liquid they have.
Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.