An item to increase the comfort of the dreaded Cold Camp.
One of the legendary unholy treasures
Spare parts of the Fantasy sort.
"Tired of lugging about heavy quivers full of arrows?"
Some items simply go wrong, that happens from time to time. But some are created by weird minds, even downright deranged ones, minds too sick to be healed. Guess where this one comes from.
As if there was not enough siliness around…
With but a word, the small mantis made of fine copper wire came to life; growing at an alarming rate, ready to defend its owner…
Sometimes the simple solutions are best..
Some items are either so heretical in nature, insightful, feared, coveted, or powerful, that if discovered, they would change the world around them. Yet, how many lie forgotten on a dusty old shelf?
Curiosity killed the cat…
Dust created to allow seeing invisible creatures of all kinds, even if immaterial.
When the Liberty special forces medical research and development teams needed to rebuild man, they didn’t do it by halves. The result? A suite of augmentation so pervasive, that most modified operatives are more effective on their own than half of the Liberty marines put together.
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"With the OP(im) implant you can be the master of your own space and time!" - Advertisement
‘To the victor goes the spoils’ it is said but what if those spoils are not what they seem. What if those items of victory, are deadly.
A floating sphere of rusted iron spikes, no good can come of this.
The engines and playthings of the artificer kings.
Got a small character who can’t knock as loud as you would like? Or maybe you’ve got sensitive fingers? Worry no longer, the portable doorknocker is here!
Beauty is siad to be in the eye of the beholder. Well, now it can be in the hand too, depending on what the peeping tom in you wants to look at with this bag.
There are those magic users in the world who will go to great lengths to keep their secrets locked away from the wordl. There are also those magic users in the world who are always losing their keys. Well, one such magic user couldn’t believe he didn’t think of this key sooner.
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.