The Writer glimpsed it in his journeys through the various hells, but he paid no heed to it. His tale was about the afterlife and the punishments therein, not the arms and armor of the Darkness.
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.
There is a certain kind of silver-coloured spider who's bite injects an addictive drug into the person that creates a sense of euphoria. Once bitten the PC has a 50% chance of being addicted to the spider's bite and will carry it around with him or her.Long term use leads to serious injury or death.At first the PC will just seem a bit slower or sleepier then normal.