Developed in a number of places any number of times, MoonInk has been applied in any number of ways.
A piece of crystallized magic.
Doctor Foster was fed up of being known as Doctor Fester, and decided that no more would the people he operated on face the risk of gangrene after their surgery.
A compilation of magical staves that summon servants.
HeartKind bands are a way for Dark Kind (or any Deamonic/Monsterous kind) to show that people have nothing to fear from them.
The alchemists of the Hegemon did well, developing an almost undetectable Love Potion.
A floating sphere of rusted iron spikes, no good can come of this.
Tired of losing those daily fights in the bathroom? Try this towel on for size.
"You shall never catch anything but a whiff of me!" Vaivin yelled, as he ran down the dark tunnel being chased by giant rats. All of a sudden he was gone and all that remained was a cloud of gas.
A sword with a bitter history and a dark stigma
The Unic Horn can be used to utter audible spells by blowing through the horns and bone resonator.
A magic weapon common among the Orcish tribes
The sword of swords, it is what it needs to be.
If your gonna bury someone, you may as well make sure they stay buried, right? Well, this will definately help.
If drawing your sword won’t send people running, then maybe this sword’s singing will.
Got a small character who can’t knock as loud as you would like? Or maybe you’ve got sensitive fingers? Worry no longer, the portable doorknocker is here!
Beauty is siad to be in the eye of the beholder. Well, now it can be in the hand too, depending on what the peeping tom in you wants to look at with this bag.
There are those magic users in the world who will go to great lengths to keep their secrets locked away from the wordl. There are also those magic users in the world who are always losing their keys. Well, one such magic user couldn’t believe he didn’t think of this key sooner.
The peerless heroes of the Eagle Legion died with their sandals on…
Legacy of the sorcerous Shetam Kham, these complex rites allow even the most evil of accursed items to be reclaimed.
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.