Maddoc sat amid a pile of unrecognizable corpses. Men, Dwarves, Orcs, you couldn't tell. He periodically took a stab at one with his new knife and screamed, "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!"
He struck out hard with the blade, cutting his foe down to the bone in the arm that held the weapon , only to feel agony in his own sword arm as if it too had been cut right down to the bone. As he dropped his blade due to the shock and two more opponents closed in to cut him down, he realised to his horror that his blade was a Feeling Sword and that he was unlikely to survive this fight.
I am the mask that grins and lies
I'll hide your face and shield your eyes....
Even the most despicable and evil Tyrant will be convinced they pale in comparison to this monstrosity.
The curse of poverty is very real, and sometimes you are forced to learn the error of your ways before you can break its shackles.
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.
Upon the third storm-cracked night, under the light of a bloated blood red moon, the Razor of ManBeasts was crafted. A show of revenge, or the creation of a druid gone mad, no one knows for sure. But the ManBeasts walk the nighted forests now, ever since then, not a coincidence I say.
"No, don't touch...that. Too late."
Fanaticism can be just as dangerous as fire. Spreading like fire, it could spark rebellion and could lead towards violence. As a way to curb devotion to the abstract, king Hareth of Garilroot asked his Mages to come up with a solution for those too invested in an ideal.
No chain is heavier than the one forged by the passage of years.
The Deathstick is a potent weapon, but it may well do more damage to it's user then the target, as it has not been perfected by it's creators yet.
Morcar’s ring is a marvel to behold, capable of healing wounds…but be sure that you do not tax it’s powers too far and die wearing it, or you will become a true horror to behold.
Last night, your buddy was thinking about calling one of those crazy psychic hotlines, he was really depressed, his girlfriend dumped him, and he wanted some good news. You know they’re all a scam, they give you some advice that could apply to everyone and a large bill to boot. You told him to go for it.
But now he’s missing. All you have is his cell phone, and something is wrong with it. You found it in your toilet today. Yeah, your toilet. It’s got all his old numbers and a few you don’t recognize. You tried to call some, but all you got was a what sounded like a bunch of voices muttering at once. What the hell is going on here?
As soon as he had set his eyes upon The Sword of all Swords he knew it must be the perfect blade for him. And he would stop at nothing to possess it!
Fandune screamed as the inmate’s hands locked around his neck. With quick thinking and a little luck he managed to mutter the right words and waggle his fingers perfectly for the curse. The inmates fingers bent back upon themselves and were rendered useless.
Seeing her boyfriend, Amber opened her mouth to tell him her true name, but the Masking Bracelet that she was wearing took control, and forced her to keep her mouth shut and walk away.
"Wear this ring, My Student, and you will never perform another act of perversion and thus remain pure."
The Waresian Armoire dates back to the height of the kingdom of Waresia, a period known for it’s love of baroque and the macabre
Hammered from Stygian steel and inlaid with demonbone and bejeweled with demon jade and black diamonds, the blackest of blackguards are filled with lust and envy to possess this armor
...The light reflected off its pale green surface, glinting off what seemed to be veins coursing through the stone. A curious ring, just lying there as if asking to be found…
The journey had been a long one and now they had entered the mountains. After an entire day spent on paths cut into the mountainside and through moss covered coniferous woods, they encounter a desperate young mountain tribal. He is searching for his beloved wife and his elder brother, both of whom he got separated from after an unsuccessful attempt to kill a cave bear. The last thing he saw was the cave bear in full pursuit of his wife. He could not help her as he had been knocked to the ground by the raging beast, and was struggling to regain full consciousness. The tribal will be clearly nervous and urges them to look for his wife during their travels. He will stay in his village a couple of miles to the north and pleads for assistance should they recover his wife, whether she be dead or alive.
On the next day of travel, they will journey upon a dim track in the forest and while they are preparing to ascend another path cut into the mountainside, they hear moans of lust from somewhere nearby. Upon closer inspection they will spy a young tribal woman in the heat of the act with an elder tribal male. They are consummating their forbidden love on the cold mountain moss, and beside them lay the skinned and slaughtered carcass of a huge bear.