For as long as there have been possessions, thieves have tried to steal them, and others have tried to protect them. With the discovery of magic, however, the protection of wealth took a sharp turn for the deadly. Not to be outdone, thieves learned the magic arts, and so the cycle began anewÃ¢?Â¦ (History and its Patterns, Magnus Blackjack)
None could deny that the Torner the Fearless’ heartbroken widow did mourning well.
Such a bloodied claymore has history way back through lines of father and son. In fact only one place near the handle still holds a metal tone, because of a magical barrier, and it has ingraved in it words that forever speak out to the swords bearer. Those words, like a guilty memory, can never be forgot.
“Thou who shall kill a sons father, shall then be killed by a fathers son.”
Never buy your potions from the Discount Dealer…
This mighty polearm contains the bound and unwilling spirit of a daemon, who’s dearest desire is eternal vengance on the one who bound him.
“In the Black, dead souls creep
Seeking vengence without sleep.
Sacrificed for precious stones,
Rend they now flesh and bones.
Bloody staind and drenched in tears,
Stones cry out to one who hears,
‘Treachery has sown the seeds!
Now you’ll be the one who bleeds!
Wear us well, you who brave,
Next you’ll be in the grave!’”
- Tas-Vessina’s curse
This item has been moved about the lands throughout the ages, lost and found by various people. Always it seems that the unsuspecting are the usual and unfortunate ones to find them. It is vague but throughout history events of misfortune and chaotic nature seem to follow in the path of this item, sowing the seeds of disorder and discord. However it is when all four of these set items are found and placed together, does anarchy truly reign.
Nobody, as long as he moves about among the chaotic currents of life, is without trouble.
- Carl G. Jung
“Malghoul Etra Galad Morta, Malghoul Etra Galad Morta!” This booming chant repeats itself over and over; I clutch my head wishing it to end. Physically it doesn't cause me pain, but my brain seems to want to explode from some unseen pressure. Wait something is happening, the bloodied mist has finally settled and I feel refreshed from my hard days. I wonder what this bloodied chalice has in store for me.
-Torren Wayhon, Adventurer, lost soul
A muse in a bottle, greatness distilled into a single gulp.
And if you win you get this glowing fiddle made of gold, but if you lose, the Devil gets your soul.
Those who want to use this should be very careful indeed.
Even at the best of times, goblins and alchemy don’t mix well…
Yazzard hasn’t been the same since getting struck by lightning. Neither has his cloak.
The shamans of the Keirn tribe Ge’stam, would perform rituals of bonding on young warriors who had passed for their right to become warriors. The totem that bonds with the warriors spirit is powerful, yet needs to be cared for as would a suckling baby. Only the proud warriors of the Ge’stam know how to balance the two.
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.
A goblet created with the pommel of the sword of storms.
A sinister book that forces the reader to relive painful memories by presenting idealized versions of their outcomes.
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.
Misery, trouble and general bad luck will dog all who drink from the seemingly wonderful Goblet of Sin…
Untold years, laying in the deep
Sheltered in the sepulchre earth
Borne by the dead who never speak
Funeral Gold and Grave Silver
Beware the gift
Beware the giver
A group of adventurers come across a child’s body on their adventures, odd being such a remote location. Their is no detectable sign of violence to the child, nor are their any signs of life. Suddenly the child opens its eyes, looks towards the group and introduces themselves to the adventures.
If this wasn’t odd enough, the child can’t remember where they are from, only their name and age. Stranger yet, the child has a tattoo on their right shoulder of a family crest, to a family that died out over 200 years ago.