The Nekron, also known as Dark Elves, the Drow, and other ruder names are rarely friendly with humans, but on occasion they need their help, and are willing to reward them for a job well done...
Not only the weapon needs to be special or magical...
Inspired by #35 from 30 Benefits to owning a pet crocodile.
Because somebody had to.
The crafty Murdholm Dwarf had not seen these new shields. Fools, he though, bigger shields won't help you when you swing like a bear.
He felt the spear being yanked from his grasp. Before he knew it, his own spear slipped back to him, into him, point first.
Devjuha backed away from the engaged foe, his opposite wand moving further out. He held the rod sideways, bracing it against his chest. Then ran, full speed, to the right. He caught an unwary opponent, lingering near the edge of the battle, right in the neck with the vicious assault from his Rod of Duality.
Just seeing if I can upload and view a picture from the submission page.
A general list of the types of grenades Xenith Manufactors.
I've seen a lot of things in my time lad, six legged mechs, tanks with arms, jets that turn into mechs, but I've never seen anything like that.
The sixth iteration of Micro-Arms founding invention, the MWP-6 is a compact anti-personnel weapon, designed for use in ship and station side environments, where failing to breach the hull is even more important than the destruction of the target.
A hulking testament to the authority, affluence, and capability of the Yerisian Regime
"All I could do was stare as my strange opponent hefted his key-like lance. He told me my armor would only hinder me in this fight. I didn’t believe him at the time, but he was right."
Devised by the most powerful Cuada sorcerors, it is intended to guard their race against the most powerful menance that they have ever faced.
The men cheered as their X1-gunner scored a direct hit on the mainsail of the ship that they were chasing. They drew their cutlasses and readied their C-47 Thaumatech rifles, for with a huge hole in the sail, the ship was forced to slow down and could not stay ahead of them for much longer.
Fiery doom in two handy barrels. Unsurpassed destructive power. Comes with a five shot warranty.
A primitive flame thrower, the Lance of Hades brings the power of flame to the Phalanx formation.
Light Mech for close encounters of the "messy" kind.
Unpowered and unmanned, the gliders provide a graceful and silent means for delivering death. Once again the engineers found that you didn't need to reinvent the wheel. . .
The Elves of Hielaepriaus grow plants for many different things, not the least of these is war.
T'was a great roar, milord, and the ground was rent and the horses took their bits in their teeth and there was much confusion. No magic could reach so far, and none of our magehounds scented wizards. We do not know the deviltry of the enemy, and for this we lost the battle.
The Silesian Triremes, also known as the Three-in-one, are one of the more feared ships that the marines and the sailors of the De Madden Company have met in battle.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.