There are two stories to the Cursed Cup of Immortality, the one that was fabricated and sold to adventurers upon return, and the real story.
Gotta have dat juice!
Golgotha, Shadowrunner and notorious Juicer
Fanaticism can be just as dangerous as fire. Spreading like fire, it could spark rebellion and could lead towards violence. As a way to curb devotion to the abstract, king Hareth of Garilroot asked his Mages to come up with a solution for those too invested in an ideal.
This oily, crimson liquid is rare to find even in the more complete apothecary’s collections. It can be easily applied to any blade or arrowhead as it was designed to do so, however if consumed it will have no ill effects on the drinker.
The Connoisseurs of the land would remember Vigo Telaggio’s masterpiece, but not in the way he’d intended…
The drink was a rare vintage with a light, fruity aroma, but one glass was not enough. It left the drinker craving something more…
Never buy your potions from the Discount Dealer…
A muse in a bottle, greatness distilled into a single gulp.
Even at the best of times, goblins and alchemy don’t mix well…
"BB9, bring up the current scout results."
"I'm sorry, Coach. I can't do that."
"BB9! Bring up the scout results."
"These kinds of us, Coach, use serial numbers on our products."
"BB9, are you malfunctioning?"
"You need to indicate college basketball mentors you are significantly devoted to the adventure!"
The two men in black suits turned to each other. Their faces were white.
"Someone get the president on the line! Tell him that our ICBM handler thinks that its managing a high school basketball team!"