Within the chest of a wizardly tool, there beats a Shard heart, deeming the master a fool.
This is a Quest Submission for the Shards of the Storm Quest.
The shards of Typhoon and Monsoon were recognized by the Wind and Sky, and so the lands beneath them permitted them to exist, and thus remembered, so they continue to exist.
But what of the shards themselves? When the hands of mortal interfere with the Gods, woe to thee who believes them worthy.
Collin was always good at solving blacksmiths puzzles, but this time he had finaly met his match. Collin’s Confusing Puzzle is an item that complements Siren no Orakio’s Item submission “Shards of the Storm”. This is a quest submission.
There is always a cool breeze blowing through the room that has this simple table decoration. The Star of Breezes is an item that complements Siren no Orakio’s Item submission “Shards of the Storm”. This is a quest submission.
In accordance with my own Quest:
And they shall beat their swords into plowshares, the implements of war returning life to the land.
The Rod of Arcane Power is saught after by wizards everywhere as a source of limitless power. The Rod of Arcane Might is an item that complements Siren no Orakio’s Item submission “Shards of the Storm”. This is a quest submission.
These boots are an item that complements Siren no Orakio’s Item submission “Shards of the Storm”. This is a quest submission.
The proud dwarven Captain Dugfar stood atop his mighty machine of magic and stone looking down the mountain they had just emerged from; letting the wind whip his beard over his shoulder… "This is a proud day for the Dwarves!" He bellowed. "...and this is just the start!"
The unearthly sound echoed across the faire over the din of the crowd. An apprentice trying to make some extra coin had found a way to utilize his training tool. While this would scandalize his master and his peers, the common folk were mesmerized by the unique sound this instrument performed.
Archaeologists have long wondered about the origins of “cup and ring-marked stones”, the mysterious rocks found on deserted tracts of moorland bearing markings resembling small shallow pits with concentric rings and dating to the Bronze-age.
This strange tobacco mixture that natives of Ankorill use
for both traditional ceremonies and everyday events.
Though it is a called a trident, it is actually a magic sword of the truest type. It is a mystical device used in ritual magic.
Flip. Flip. Flip. Flip. The sound softly echoed in the Sanctum’s walls.
These are the items magic-users and alchymists would be really creating: minor, useful, and easy to sell.
This is a listing of every Ring thought of and put to submissions here at Strolens. For a far better solution to finding what your looking for.
“Where do all those marvelous toys go?!”
It appears to be an older, above average quality taptestry. The subject is unimportant, so some are religious, others are landscapes, others portaits of kings/ queens, some portray ancient cities. However, you can lose yourself in one.
Nobody calls it a Chamberpot of Holy Blessings. It is just another chamberpot. It is a secret item, nobody actually knows it exists.
It is a nice fluffy pillow, filled with soft down, covered in a soft, nice fabric. It is soooo comfortable. *yawn* You could just nod offffff when layyyying on .......... *snore*
‘I told Sir Ursus not to take the amulet, to leave it be in it’s resting place. But he would not listen. We now trek to his place of hiding to remove the amulet and return it, and to destroy that which Ursus has become. ’
- Arch-Danath Maccalas of the Dark Step Tribe
Stormbound, the ship rolls hard over to once side. All that is not strapped down is tossed violently overboard in a splash of freezing water.
There, on the horizon- a tower. Squat, it stands alone on a tiny island. However, it's the only land in sight, and any more of this ferocious storm will crush the boat to splinters.
Taking shelter within the ornate entryway of the squat tor, the party notes with interest that no signs of life break the silence of the stone tower. As they take another step forward, they realise why.
This is the fabled tower of Brenji, a rich merchant who wished none to share his enormous wealth. He constructed this tower to store his gold- trapped and ready for any potential thieves. But the ingenious pitfalls and scything walls are not the only dangers within the silent walls of the building. A guardian, left behind by Brenji, still stalks these very halls.
A rattling hiss echoes somewhere from below...