"The gods have chosen to smite us today my brethren...but we must fight back"
"How damn it we're just men...insects before their power"
"We will have to find the dagger"
A destroyed Kingdom of the Moon, Imbria was lost and it's flotsam of debris rained down on Earth. Among the treasures of shattered Imbria were it's Ancient Swords
All it takes for evil to triumph is for Ennui to convince good men to do nothing.
The leader of the Seven Brave inhabits this arrogant weapon.
The deadliest Sinblade, Wrathbringer is coveted by the violent and feared by all.
A hilt built like a ceremonial goblet, and not the nice kind, a hideous blade of ash and flame erupt from the lip. To wield this blade is to forsake the Heavens and thrust the power of Hell into your foes.
Forged of destruction, in the name of hatred, Winter’s Tempest is a cold echo of its parent blades, yet still it bears the destruction of the frozen elements.
Amenorian brings forth her power to bring justice and retribution to the wicked.
An object out of a children’s tale, few regard the Key of the Gods as a real object. But those who hunt for it may be in for more than they bargained for.
When L’ruhk was banished to the Nothing Beyond Creation, he returned at the head of a demonic army, wielding a spear black as his corrupted soul.
Long sword built from storm sword shard. Empowered with the force of storm-water.
Lacking in ornamentation, the Black Spear is a relic more than 8000 years old
Nobody knows how many were made or who the creator was. It is only known that in need, the blades always appear to those that are worthy. They lift those they choose into places of power and use that influence to rage a millennium old war.
Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.
Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.
It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.