Manufacted during the heyday of the Old World, these rods contain the elemental power of flame.
A rod… that can control other rods? Sounds great… if it works. And if you can find it.
It started as the answer to a monarch’s fears, but it ended up as a thing of terror.
I need a light for my pipe, pass me a flask of fire, mate.
Bracers that a serve as a battery for magical energy.
There was a mage once who dreamed of magic being there for everybody, and with his "Leveler" wand he might well have turned his dream into reality.
A misnamed and probably overrated item, a topic of many a rumour to the folk of King Stymian. They all say it can foretell future, none is certain how.
It was one of the most hated rulers, King Coloman the Horrible,who had this beautiful Quartz orb made. He thought he would be able to see into the future, and he did, but due to his greed, he did not know the horrible fate that awaited him.
The things you could do just by pointing…
He was frantically pointing towards the glowing mountain. “We need to cast The Spell!”, Bothar screamed!
I held up the scroll we all had risked our lives to get. “Nobody can cast this spell without a prepared mystic space and ritual equipment. It would be suicide,” I said. “Not even him,” I jerked my thumb towards the Magi who smiled slyly.
Silently, he unstrapped that bolt of cloth he had been carrying since I had known him. He unfurled it, tamped it down, with small spikes, pulled a small apothecary chest out, placed and lit four candles on the cloth, drew some lines with some handy chalk, unpacked his remaining tools, then he held his hand out expectantly for the scroll. It took a fraction of a candle mark.
“Solomontic Rug,” he said quietly. “The key to mastery is knowing and having the right tools, be they physical, mental, or magical, and having them ready when you need them.”
Be wary, adventurer, of the smoke of Mal’Mennoth, that dread, choking cloud that blots out the very sun! Be wary, adventurer, of the demon’s dread shadow, of the things that prey on your mind!
Three manacles created by a devout priest of the Storm Queen. Connected to the storm queen via one of the shards of the storm they are used to take control of any person who wears one.
Thirteen hundred years ago, a mad powerful wizard had an estate in the area that became the county of Corvis. Over his 800 year span, he created thousands of magikal items of various types and power level. While many were "mighty", there were a large number of lesser and trivial orbs and trinkets. This is their scroll
There are certain things that need not be said, and events best left in the past, to be forgotten. Be careful what you wish for.
Residing in the core of this giant black megalithic structure built to resemble a crude representation of a lightning bolt, lies a Shard of the Storm.
And a lot else..
A divinely aware ornament, this device serves to conceal and hide from the most powerful of beings…
Within the chest of a wizardly tool, there beats a Shard heart, deeming the master a fool.
You should feel proud today, knowing that you will be the reason why another person will live. Why they will escape the brink of death and be able to heal all injuries. This is a great thing and you should feel elation knowing because of you, they will live. Unfortunately you must die for them to live; such is the way of the world.
-Inganno - Follower of Caedmon, Alchemist of Shadow
Though it is a called a trident, it is actually a magic sword of the truest type. It is a mystical device used in ritual magic.
This Legendary Item, originally called The Staff of the Elderly Magi, was created by Corvus. It has gone by many names since the voop. For the last few centuries it has been known as The Grand Staff of the Black Dragon Magi, a device that once nearly destroyed the world.
Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.