Great things happen when leaders put their heads together…
Two fully sentient enchanted scimitars.
A simple knife, designed to hold its poison far longer than a blade with poison simply smeared over it.
For eight centuries Elric’s Silver Hammer has been buried in his barrow with him-a terrible fate for a sentinent weapon. Is it any wonder that it has got a little crazy after all those years?
The Demonslayer… ironically created by the very creatures it was designed to kill.
This is the first of the four elemental weapons made by the high elves of Seraith
It is said that this sacred sword can move fire and earth to defend it’s wearer, but the truth is uncertain.Some say it’s powers must surely be only myth, others that it is the most dangerous weapon in the Kingdom.
These magnificent warhammers were created during the War of the Elder races, a war between the Elves and the Dwarves. Made for Elven clerics to use in battle against their dangerous foes.
Queen Amber of Vallermoore was distressed by the number of amputations that were nescessary to deal with the crimewave after she came to power. So she ordered her wizards to come up with something to make amputation reversable, whilst retaining some value as a punishment.And so the Avenger was made.
The story I am about to tell you is one of magic and of monsters, of bravery and courage, of good and of evil, but most importantly of Flame and he who wished to quench it - Old Cro, the story teller.
These are the traditional honor weapons of the legendary Blades of the Golden Sun. It is with these weapons that they defended the Imperial Realm from the Taint of Shadow. Or so some say.
“Masterful Ares, god of war you place me in this dread place far from my home, no friends or family, and only you to talk to. Still even you seem never to answer. I have served you many a century and still you wont answer my prayer, well this last prayer I will send with all the blood of the men of this world if you will send me home.” Paladrim, his final prayer to Ares
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.
The endless dark of the depths, the strength of the tsunami, the drowning embrace of the cold, these are the
A dark dagger of song, forged for vengance. It shall have that vengance.
A long sword with a curved light steel-like blade and a ruby inlaid into the pommel of the swords hilt. Used by the greatest of Warriors to vanquish their foes, be them good or evil.
The enormous hammer of the Warlord Gyog Ak-Thail, the Ribcage Destroyer. It is said to have slain 3,000 men.
My own take on the whole intelligent weapon thing
“A man needs two things to become a saint. He must perform three miracles, and then he must die. Perform your miracles, sir, and come to me when you are ready to become a saint.”
—Azariah Saintmaker, Dread Lord of Hatred
The Trollshaw Staff is roughly six feet tall, though if the bends in the wood were pulled out straight, the staff would easily be eight or nine feet tall. As it is, it is twisted as a troll itself.
The food that eats you back.
Creatures of nightmare, the thankfully rare Mesnoi have unique form and attributes. Only one Mesnoi at a time will ever be "encountered".
In appearance, a Mesnoi resembles a walnut-sized chunk of freshly-roasted red meat from some uncertain yet familiar, edible animal. The insidious creature camouflages itself quite appropriately whenever it can, by slowly making its way amidst feast tables and trays of roasted meats.
Once eaten by the unsuspecting, the Mesnoi sinks down to the stomach, reforming if chewed, and begins to lap up the gastric fluids, digestive juices, and bile that it craves, like a sponge.
The Mesnoi carrier will experience mild to severe stomach pains during this time.
After a few hours of this (this is the only time that the Mesnoi can be purged with magic, or other mundane means), the Mesnoi transforms into its true form inside its victim, that of a miniature, once more walnut-sized, pot-bellied, devil-horned, snake-tailed imp. This horrid little creature then begins to chew and eat its way out of the victim from the inside out with its tiny, razor-sharp teeth, like a rat forced to do so via torture.
The victim almost always dies a slow, agonizing death. That much is certain. The devilish imp then exits its victim and begins its seventy two hour existence of mischief and malevolence, until it once more turns back into a hunk of roasted meat with the movement capabilities of a snail.