A unique spear that was lost in production.
A sturdy, primitive Pictish axe
A spear that reflects the life of it’s owner trough small Haiku like poems. As the soldier lives his life the spear casts a shadow of his great exploits. Small runes are carefully etched in the ash shaft after a great battle or another important event in the warriors life.
All that was left on the battlefield that day was a worn rusty sword, with BELIGITOR etched in the Blade.
“So this is the sword of Crog, the legendary hero…right?” This weapon may prove that psychology can be better than magic.
The demon stood before him laughing, “That puny sword can’t touch me.”
Without a word the man turned the blade so that the edge faced the demon, he ran ducked under the demons fist and slashed through the stomach of the foul creature. “How?”Â The demon asked.
“You have been found guilty!” Spoke Nemisis*
*before the Battle of Fate
Thousands of orcs chant in unison as their champion and chieftan raises the black iron morningstar, they chant for the hammer of the underworld, the unbeatable weapon of orcdom.
Formed entirely of shadowstuff, Ranunculus passes through matter and living things. While objects are unaffected by its passing, living creatures, when struck, are stunned and descend instantly into madness, effectively removing them from any battle. Upon spoken command, Ranunculus will instantly return to its owner’s hand.
Touched by the gods, this ancient blade is also called the Hero’s Sword, Trevor’s Folly, and Fooldoom depending on which song or tale is being told about it.
Ghostly flaming apparition of a blade, slayer of spectres and all that is ethereal, wielded by its durable hilt inlaid in gold, silver, ivory and white pearls. It can turn the tide when fighting the intangible.
“Odd style, you present yourself with.”
“Yes indeed, it suits me well enough.”
::lunge:: ::parry:: ::cross:: ::reposte:: ::parry::
“Strange you lead with your dagger, yet you attack in defend with your right…”
“I’d honor you with a flourish from my left but that would hardly be fair…”
“First blood it is, on guard!”
When the Reverend Fury had his old sword reforged, it was done for one purpose: to assist him in his quest to wipe the undead from the earth.
A legendary sword used to hunt enemy leaders.
A legendary sword that might save your life.
A legendary axe—once you are hit, there is no escape.
Sometimes a sword’s value is not determined by magical properties, of gilding and jewels. Sometimes it’s value comes from it’s deeds and it’s history
This weapon is a fine basket-hilted broadsword, with a long sharp iron blade and an aura of power about it that can be sensed faintly by everybody. Those who pick it up for the first time feel safer with the sword in their hand then without it.A large purple amythest jewel is set in the sword’s basket hilt. The user senses that if they press the emerald, others will become scared of them…
This rod was created by the great mage Nani. She died before the final incantation was finished and so the rod lacks much of its intended power…
“Across my back rests the Scorpion’s Tail; a long, narrow, scythe-like thorn forged of Bronzed Imuricum, tempered with the blood of the Dragonkind, those ancient scourges of man, and sharpened against scale and talon alike.”
Some might call it a clawed glove. That would be Anthrocentric. It, and items like it, are magic weapons for being that use magic and do not use weapons, but use their claws. The Clawed Races uses these "claws" to enhance their natural combative ability.
The third son of a candle-maker, and secretly a spy, Tsiao Fong Wei betrayed his family, clan, and town to the merciless Qongg Dynasty, causing the deaths of his own family members. He survived to an old age hiding out in the country side and keeping a low profile. One day however, the “Paper Knife” finally found Tsiao Fong Wei , and exacted his revenge on behalf of the folk, dead and tortured.
After a furious struggle, the “Paper Knife” plunged twin burning candles into the eyes of the traitorous old man and laughed, as Tsiao Fong Wei howled in dismay and pain. Some say Tsiao Fong Wei died that day. Others say that the old man somehow escaped despite his sudden anguish and utter blindness.
The truth is lost to time.
But to this day the children of the Red-Ridge County towns and villages are told by their parents to always beware twin lights in the darkness and to never venture into the woods at night, and to keep an ear open for the Groaning Ghost, for somewhere out there Tsiao Fong Wei the Traitor, now a vengeful spirit, stumbles about the darkness moaning and wailing, candles still sticking forth from out of his otherwise empty eye sockets. And though the candles plunged into his eyes all those years ago were a’flame going in, now the wax protuberances are somehow lit from within and burn without, and two flickering lights in the darkness, always portend his coming.