"O Victorious Maul, send down your fury!
O Hammer of Justice, bring Dalraaen’s law!
O Weapon of Righteousness, cast out the unlawful!"
- Magistrate Archivinus Kelstori, Ode to the Gavel
With the patronage of Dalraaen, this heavenly mace is the focus of the Magisterium’s strongest order. Its darker roots, however, are hidden even to its wielders, and its very existance threatens the world.
The famed Sigil Swords were a great help to the naval forces of those who served Big Red, and their magic would only serve their owners, much to the anger of the Admirals of the De Madden Company.
The wicked claw of the Hollow Woods, you would be wise to avoid their feared archers…
Sometimes, you just need to stash something away - some spare cash, a holdout weapon, your gender…
The fey are strange, but occasionally, just occasionally, their actions make sense.
Peter saw it in the shadows. It began like a emerald sparkler. The sparkler begain to move around in a circle. Slowly at first, but with increasing speed. Then gold and silver light began to spin around with the green. Soon the spinning lights cooled. They became metallic, yet still gently glowing in the gloom. Inside the ring, static - like the static on an analog tv - appeared. The first of what he would call Grinches appeared.
New Takes on Classic Magic Items
A magical rope with many useful properties.
A wonderous weapon bearing the power and grace of the elvish people…
A magical, multi-dimensional crystal that damages all it touches, even reality.
Candles aren’t just for lighting, anymore.
A list of harmless (if sometimes annoying) potions.
Find a penny, pick it up.
And all the day you’ll have good luck.
An assortment of cures scattered to all ends of Strolen’s domain!
An item to increase the comfort of the dreaded Cold Camp.
Spare parts of the Fantasy sort.
Also known as the Staff of the Bodyguard
"Tired of lugging about heavy quivers full of arrows?"
"...and thus it was said that Adaleer the Blest could reflect the true nature of any soul. Now some of his followers believed that his ranger gear, as much a part of him as his faith, was also so blest."
- Dauneth, Lore Chronicles
Bows, Arrows, Bolts, Braces and Quivers.
In a small inn (the more remote the better), a man turns up dead. There are no wounds on his body what-so-ever, and he aboslutely reeks of garlic.
The man died of a curse that forced him to eat a clove of garlic a day or suffer the penalty. This gets really interesting if the body somehow appears on top of a someone the villagers are suspcious of.