“What’s the difference between good and evil?”
A common tool of necromancers, nether mages, and others who are privvy to the arts of the dead and undead
The CogNet might be policed by sentient programs and controlled by artificially intelligent super computers, but it is built on top of millions of organic memory cores that function as its host.
One man's ultimate demise could prove another's treasure...Or curse.
Based off of the Rubik's Cube, the Emote Cube is a banned piece of arcanotechnology
"The gods must have truly wanted the king to drown, to make him meet such an end in a mud puddle, most unfortunate indeed. Then again we all knew he was unsteady on his feet, a pity that cane his son gave him for his 85th birthday didn't serve him better..."
A magically cursed walking stick, often gifted to those who have been on the throne a little too long. Suitable for use in any magical fantasy setting and easily adapted to higher tech magical settings.
"No, don't touch...that. Too late."
Fandune screamed as the inmate’s hands locked around his neck. With quick thinking and a little luck he managed to mutter the right words and waggle his fingers perfectly for the curse. The inmates fingers bent back upon themselves and were rendered useless.
The Waresian Armoire dates back to the height of the kingdom of Waresia, a period known for it’s love of baroque and the macabre
An Elven made memory stone
Warning: Trickster’s Tankard may result in alcohol abuse, random bar fights and very angry dwarves, half orcs, orcs, giants and anyone else who enjoys their drink.
Use with caution
You are the lovers rock
The rock that I cling to
You’re the one
The one I swim to in a storm
Like a lovers rock
- Sade "Lovers Rock"
With no helm or hat, closer inspection reveals that part of his face has rotted away. "Give me orders!"
As if there was not enough siliness around…
The skull of the dragon of dark illusions
For as long as there have been possessions, thieves have tried to steal them, and others have tried to protect them. With the discovery of magic, however, the protection of wealth took a sharp turn for the deadly. Not to be outdone, thieves learned the magic arts, and so the cycle began anewÃ¢?Â¦ (History and its Patterns, Magnus Blackjack)
Nobody, as long as he moves about among the chaotic currents of life, is without trouble.
- Carl G. Jung
“Malghoul Etra Galad Morta, Malghoul Etra Galad Morta!” This booming chant repeats itself over and over; I clutch my head wishing it to end. Physically it doesn't cause me pain, but my brain seems to want to explode from some unseen pressure. Wait something is happening, the bloodied mist has finally settled and I feel refreshed from my hard days. I wonder what this bloodied chalice has in store for me.
-Torren Wayhon, Adventurer, lost soul
A goblet created with the pommel of the sword of storms.
Misery, trouble and general bad luck will dog all who drink from the seemingly wonderful Goblet of Sin…
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.