Some say you can’t keep a good undead down. They’ve obviously not come face to foot with these boots.
The Median forked dagger, a weapon evolved out of hunter’s tools, found almost exclusively in northeastern Media.
The fifth generation of gynoid robots produced for the inhabitants of Technopolis.
The product of anti-sound research, the Silence Field or "Silencer", became arguably one of the symbols of 21st century.
A symbol of achievement, an icon of arrogance and pride, a pinnacle of alchemical purity.
After many failures the leading computer company of the 30th Century has finally developed an economic biological chip computer.
A summary of the tools, weapons, and transports of the Kel’Regar.
A potent drink gauranteed to turn good folk into depraved and desolate madmen.
Lady Carse of Tekne
Gauranteed to protect you from nightmares, hexes, and the diseases of the loins
This stuff will make you a sexual Red-Frilled Blood Dragon.
Jesk, Orcish gladiator
Kineticite(TM) is a product of Applied Nanotech Universal (ANU - Terran Stock Exchange Ticker, + 1.35% )
This somewhat magical stone contains fire within it, just waiting to be released
A siri dai is an exotic weapon used by the Medec warriors, as an integral part of their cultural martial art, dai thila ohm.
Translated roughly as “Rope weight,” this weapon has evolved from a tool used by fisherman for anchoring to trees or hauling their boat through the shallows.
A book of unique and interesting recipes for health.
Tales are leaking from below the Iron Hills, that an unnamed winged terror can be seen on the sky on the darkest of nights. What creature it is, nobody knows, but some of the disappearances in the harsh place are said to be its work. If the moon is hidden, nightly travellers are warned to stay from roads and open places.
The most guarded secret of the Ancients, was the secret of flight.
Ã¢??Staring too long may prove to be your undoing, George…
donÃ¢??t say I didnÃ¢??t warn you.Ã¢?Â
only peasants and commoners call them wizard’s robes, those of the art know their true name.
Not eternal, but useful still: the string or rope that will last for a while.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...