"We fought the li'l beasties," the gruff old Dwarf growled, "so where the blazes is their treasure!"
Glacier grinned, "Just give me a second, I know how to find it."
Pretty smoke rings? Naw, I can do a lot more than that.
'Cmon and drink up. This potion will really help us understand each other, if you know what I mean.
One of the strangest weapons deployed by Z'pl'rt the Mad
This ever-full, ever-surprising, ever-ridiculous flask contains a magical liquid that may be the best or worst thing you've ever drank. Handling with caution won't do you any good.
One drop for a cluster of flowers, three drops for a tree, no more, no less.
"See that one, with the burn scars and dark veins? Don't stick too close; he shoots fireblood before engagements. Keeps friends and foes alike at bay, it does."
The old soldier looked up with all three of his eyes. "I lost one of my eyes to a sword point, and they used a little too much Growjuice to heal it. Still, I'd rather have three eyes then only one."
A potion to cheat death... almost.
Mean ingredients bring mean effects...
“Nobody will laugh long who deals much with opium: its pleasures even are of a grave and solemn complexion.” -Thomas De Quincey
Completely silent; jumping from Shadow to Shadow, he stalked his prey through the streets. Dawn would be coming soon, and he did not want to be caught within the enemy’s grasp.
An attempt to improve the venerable elixir of haste, there remain a few… kinks to be worked out.
A list of harmless (if sometimes annoying) potions.
The alchemists of the Hegemon did well, developing an almost undetectable Love Potion.
It was meant to be a great help in a city’s battle with booze, but all too often it has merely become another tool in the criminal armoury…
“I would have sworn it was butter! I can’t believe it!”
“Everything is poison, there is poison in everything. Only the dose makes a thing not a poison”.
Hachnar’s Blade Venoms come in two varieties, Staying and Mouldering. One is useful for monster-hunters, the other for assassins..
What a narrow street! The bowed windows of the upper floors encroach on the view of the bowed windows opposite, making it all very dark and shady down here in your carriage. You feel it slow down and stop, and there are raised voices outside. Craning your neck out of the door you see a smug cartsman ahead, whose cart is blocking just enough of the narrow street to make your passage impossible. He appears to be waiting for you to move, but your driver is hurling abuse at him and your horses are getting restless...