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.
A unique spear that was lost in production.
The sight of a war forbici on the battle field makes some laugh, others fearful, and some simply confused. In well-trained hands, however, it can be a lethal weapon.
Long sword built from storm sword shard. Empowered with the force of storm-water.
Sharp as a sword, light as a dagger, and easily concealable.
Once the dead walked upon the Barrow-Downs and protected them and, to some extent, the nearby towns as well, for few dared to burgle or rob, let alone murder, by night when the wraiths stalked the streets, but then when an act of demon summoning went wrong, everything changed for the worse, and the Starsword was created to fight the forces of the dark.
Perhaps not quite what you would expect. Certainly it is a sword that can produce flames at will.
A sturdy, primitive Pictish axe
Pu-Da are called Clubs in the rest of the world. Among the Ankorillian weaponry are different types of clubs for use in close combat.
Ankorillian warriors carries, on a regular basis, Na-ha (spears) and many different types of Pahas (daggers). However, these are not daggers as most people think of them.
The old clock tower stands tall, but the bulk of the uppermost storey is crumbling and unsafe, with gaping cracks in the walls. The metal struts and girders supporting the great bronze bells are still intact, though, and the bells survive. The grotesque gargoyles and arabesques which decorated the original design have either fallen into the street (once or twice a year more bricks fall from the tower, prompting calls for its demolition) or have been defaced, but the main doors to the clock tower are still intact and show signs of being kept in working order. This is the home of The Captains, clad in raggedy clothes, with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor. They live to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wims ghost keeps the core of a childs innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders. They are a group of street children who live in the clock tower. Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they’re all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.