"Such a curious candle... it burns...with no wick?"
"Commander... every chime in a five mile radius is making a racket. Something big is coming... something mean."
John “Whiney” Winston, he was good at his job, maybe a little too good. When Jimmy the Snake found out his books were being cooked, Jimmy took it upon himself to end Whiney's employment. Too bad Jimmy's problems are over yet.
The ties that bound their childhood home might just be the ties that repair their broken kinship.
“They have a cave Troll”
And now you can too!!!!
Apprentice: “Master, this ritual must be performed under an eclipsed sun. We'll be here until next winter if we want to complete it!”
Mage: “Ah, but you are forgetting that we have a portable eclipse handy! Observe carefully . . .”
While the glory goes to the battlemechs, during the height of the Star Empire, the martial machines were said to be outnumbered 20 to 1 by their menial brethern, the industrial mechs
The massive hammer of Nial Ironspirit, there is no finer tool for the manipulation of steel.
Most steam engines require vast quantities of coal and water. Dr. Farthing’s Fabulous Engine requires only the water that it will turn into steam, or so the good doctor says…
Odd little devices, almost ubiquitous in any city which relies on thaumatechnology.
Sturdy goggles with thick green lenses, and wires that lead to a battery of thaumic energy.
Who would want to make food you can’t eat? What purpose does this insane oven exist for?
"Whats this do?" Asked the visting Human.
"That," Dugfar replied. "Is my- Wait! Don’t tou-"
...and with that they were buried alive.
Doctor Foster was fed up of being known as Doctor Fester, and decided that no more would the people he operated on face the risk of gangrene after their surgery.
"Didja see the way way I nailed that, Marty?" "Thunderingly effective!"
Sometimes an item can be a little too effective…
The final triumph of a twisted astrologer, this splendid sphere hides a terrible secret.
You never know when you’ll need an IRON SPIKE!
The wraith-witches of Bhudokima create these stones for the braves of the Mani tribes; they are tools of barbarian voodoo, infused with simple magic.
I saw him pull that odd piece out once more, using it to fiddled with the lock. He open the big fold, and flipped out one long thin piece. He pulled a single piece out from a slide and fiddled in the lock. He stopped, smirked, and flipping out a small thin scraping tool he began to probe the area around the lock. “Trapped,” he said.
A wild species, vinus homophagus, more akin to sea-grape rather than the terrestrial variety, is not a monster despite its fanciful name. The grapes, a deep purple color when in bloom, and oozing dewdrops of perspiration, like the most prized and delectable of drinking wine grapes, do however deserve their moniker. Wine made from this fruit, is deadly to most humanoids, as is the raw berry, if plucked and eaten from the vine. It is the unnatural chemical concoction found within the fruit’s tart skin, which gives the man-eating grape its name. The chemical stew found inside each berry, functions as a necrotic agent, the same as found in some species of venomous snakes. The grapes literally eat the victim from the inside out, via cell death, dissolving organs and flesh in quick succession.
The tribes of Pra-Oohk Crater, from the jungles of Ghlush are known to sell the fermented “wine” of this grape to merchants of distant lands. Sadly, the taste of the concoction is divine when first quaffed, and even worse, the man-eating grape wine will never detect as poisonous via mundane means, its horrid natures somehow masking all attempts. Luckily the man-eating grapes are extremely rare, and endemic to humid jungles.