the sounds of war
Built for an assassin, the Devouring hand can pass many an attempt to detect it, yet it demands a terrible price of its wearer…
Sound the call of alarm and light the fires in the trenches, the time for war is upon you!
In some ways, the Dwarves of Urek were ahead of their time. Masters of metallurgy and alchemy, they had numerous technologies the human kingdoms were unaware of.
When man thinks of the wild, he thinks of the lush greenery of the forest, of the majestic plains and the deep mountains. He thinks of the elegant wild deer, of the mighty bear and the stealthy wolf. But there is another side to nature. This is the Legacy of one who learned.
A weapon from before the time of men, enchanted in times of legend by the greatest of the land’s druids.
When you face a foe in desperate life-or-death combat, there’s nothing like getting good and liquored up first…
Few cities could stand long before the invincible "Firedrake", the Hegemon’s mightiest vessel of war.
Nerundill caught hints, snippets of conversation. The rumors surrounded a book, a book of magnificent power. A book that contained the knowledge of the ancients. With every new tantalizing bit of information he heard, his resolve to possess this book increased.
Click, Zap, Fazaz, and Boom; carrying us all to our tomb. -The BombLovers
Not a bad weapon, but don’t miss. It takes about six minutes to reload…
The ornate flintlock pistol of a highwaymen, consecrated to Nahrem, God of the Crossroads
This item is not listed in many tombs of magic, nor is it detailed in any text books among the arcane. It is however sung about in many a tavern and bar across the coastal cities. The tale is sung more about the man who created it. His tale has been embellished time and again until he seemed more a god than the coward that he was.
A simple knife, designed to hold its poison far longer than a blade with poison simply smeared over it.
The tradition of Battle Sashes is only a century or two old. It started in Celedor by the River, but it has been adopted in every part of the WestLands. Given the presence of blood, spirit and honor, it was only a matter of time until magic became involved.
The armies of the Treaty States go to the fronts of the Great War armed with the sturdy, trusty and effective Dirziet Model-6, a magazine-fed bolt-action rifle.
“Masterful Ares, god of war you place me in this dread place far from my home, no friends or family, and only you to talk to. Still even you seem never to answer. I have served you many a century and still you wont answer my prayer, well this last prayer I will send with all the blood of the men of this world if you will send me home.” Paladrim, his final prayer to Ares
A dark dagger of song, forged for vengance. It shall have that vengance.
A long sword with a curved light steel-like blade and a ruby inlaid into the pommel of the swords hilt. Used by the greatest of Warriors to vanquish their foes, be them good or evil.
The Broom of the Dai Kiri, while looking like a normal broom, was a deadly weapon in the hands of a Dai Kiri Keeper trained to use it.
Stormbound, the ship rolls hard over to once side. All that is not strapped down is tossed violently overboard in a splash of freezing water.
There, on the horizon- a tower. Squat, it stands alone on a tiny island. However, it's the only land in sight, and any more of this ferocious storm will crush the boat to splinters.
Taking shelter within the ornate entryway of the squat tor, the party notes with interest that no signs of life break the silence of the stone tower. As they take another step forward, they realise why.
This is the fabled tower of Brenji, a rich merchant who wished none to share his enormous wealth. He constructed this tower to store his gold- trapped and ready for any potential thieves. But the ingenious pitfalls and scything walls are not the only dangers within the silent walls of the building. A guardian, left behind by Brenji, still stalks these very halls.
A rattling hiss echoes somewhere from below...