Ghostly flaming apparition of a blade, slayer of spectres and all that is ethereal, wielded by its durable hilt inlaid in gold, silver, ivory and white pearls. It can turn the tide when fighting the intangible.
The shield of the gods forged from the sun by Apollo himself but how can it be…...........
“Odd style, you present yourself with.”
“Yes indeed, it suits me well enough.”
::lunge:: ::parry:: ::cross:: ::reposte:: ::parry::
“Strange you lead with your dagger, yet you attack in defend with your right…”
“I’d honor you with a flourish from my left but that would hardly be fair…”
“First blood it is, on guard!”
The Kite Shield of Caladin, passed down to son from father in the Whitewing Family…
When the Reverend Fury had his old sword reforged, it was done for one purpose: to assist him in his quest to wipe the undead from the earth.
Pulsating dry white, red, orange and amber hues—- the air shimmered as the fire spirits leapt forth to and fro in the pyre. Tendrils of black carnal essence twined and twixed into the night sky barring the waxing moon from sight. The pyre burned bright as the brave and the cowardly both made their passage in preparation for the next battle and deep within the hellish inferno a golden hue developed separate from skeletal coals that breathed life with every breath of the conflagration.
The searing radiation of the holocaust gave way to the black heat as dawn emerged victorious of the night. The souls of the warriors had departed, but in corporal ashes remained a warm and coppery glow.
A legendary sword used to hunt enemy leaders.
A legendary sword that might save your life.
A legendary axe—once you are hit, there is no escape.
Sometimes a sword’s value is not determined by magical properties, of gilding and jewels. Sometimes it’s value comes from it’s deeds and it’s history
This weapon is a fine basket-hilted broadsword, with a long sharp iron blade and an aura of power about it that can be sensed faintly by everybody. Those who pick it up for the first time feel safer with the sword in their hand then without it.A large purple amythest jewel is set in the sword’s basket hilt. The user senses that if they press the emerald, others will become scared of them…
“Bah!” The bowman cried, for his bow had fallen apart in his very hands, after firing but one arrow! “Wait until I get to that weaponsmith. These arrows are obviously cursed!” The bowman discarded the quiver of 200 arrows by the road, where scavengers found it, and each separate arrow went their own ways with different owners, as time passed. Some found them cursed. Others, found that they may not be as cursed as one thinks.
This rod was created by the great mage Nani. She died before the final incantation was finished and so the rod lacks much of its intended power…
“Across my back rests the Scorpion’s Tail; a long, narrow, scythe-like thorn forged of Bronzed Imuricum, tempered with the blood of the Dragonkind, those ancient scourges of man, and sharpened against scale and talon alike.”
Some might call it a clawed glove. That would be Anthrocentric. It, and items like it, are magic weapons for being that use magic and do not use weapons, but use their claws. The Clawed Races uses these "claws" to enhance their natural combative ability.
The bronze half plate of the Flame Knight, this armor serves to protect the wearer with the blessing of the Lord of Fire.
The silver and gold longsword of a knight of flame.
One set was forged with love, the other with hate. But they were both powerful weapons.
A magical synthetic limb, with the power to call Lightning and Thunder.
The Arch-Angel Zeviah used this sword to purge the world of Evil so the Gods could create life…
Trying to find a place for this...
"After the famine hit the land, the priest Galen began religious wanderings, drawing his congregation to follow him. Those who took up with him, began to walk, a great outpouring of energy to this religious pilgrimage, coming from an impoverished nation with no true direction other than to find relief. Galen professed to his followers that they would find great resources set by his God down on Earth for them, enough to nourish and slate their thirst. Those that fell as he took them across the barren plains of the western reaches, rose again to join the lines. When finally all had died, Galen led them further, praising Nuh-Erell for that first city they came upon and a feast of flesh that lay in wait"