The final triumph of a twisted astrologer, this splendid sphere hides a terrible secret.
Just a few annoying items to spice up your games. Equipment, although needed, is rarely thought of as cursed. So I thought of a few annoying, and not too dangerous ones.
Ã¢??Come now, children, and gather round the hearth. I have a story to tell of love and sorrow and a death, and the things left behindÃ¢?Â¦Ã¢?Â the old crone said.
The drink was a rare vintage with a light, fruity aroma, but one glass was not enough. It left the drinker craving something more…
This ancient text is the legacy of one of the greatest mages of all time, but using it can be quite a challenge!
Those who wear this item are usually laughed at and scorned for its appearance at first. It looks odd adorning the head of any warrior as it always seems a little too small and its thin strap that secures it in place seems far to fragile and loose to keep it in place when worn in a melee. However, when the wake of its powers catches up to those who scorn, their attitudes and lives change abruptly. The knowledge about this helm is vague but throughout history, events of a 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 true havoc reign.
Few things are more important to a warrior than to ensure that his… coddes… are well protected, and Red Hatchet was no exception…
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.
Fedolf, the notorious headsman of Iddland, is known as much for his beheadings as for his operatic arias of doom. A tower of power, standing nearly seven feet tall, and weighing in at almost four hundred pounds, Fedolf strikes fear in all onlookers, especially when he dons his executioner's hood, and goes shirtless, wielding his gigantic double-bladed pole-axe, on his way to the headsman's block. He possesses a beautiful singing voice, and will often send off his charges into the next life, while belting out baritone dirges and antiquated arias, usually involving death, destiny, and duty, in heavy doses.