A simple way to a fate most dreadful.
The Writer glimpsed it in his journeys through the various hells, but he paid no heed to it. His tale was about the afterlife and the punishments therein, not the arms and armor of the Darkness.
a slivery blade with a barbed hook at the end the blade shineing red as the light hits it
"And 3..2..1..Smile!" *flash* *thump* "Mwahaha."
A legendary Artifact of the first brutal Ice Age.
The Suit of Purity appears to be one designed for the heroic, but it masks it’s true villanous nature. Anyone who wears it for long is bound to be slowly twisted to the Dark Side.
There are a lot of bad people out there. That is why we must torture you: to keep you safe.
Many and varied are the ways of extracting a confession or ending a criminal’s life, and the one usually follows the other.
As the paladin stripped what he could find from the foe that he had just killed, he did not know that the band of jade that he stripped from the body would do a warrior of Good like him not good at all and would weaken him just when he most needed his strength to fight evil.
This is a wretched tome of oceanic blasphemy; a foul water-stained, bone-white binder of bitter dead-men’s secrets and a guide to Nautical Necromancy useful in the hands of the young sea-faring necromancer or the Great Lich Umeen herself.
A malaign substance that can bring a lingering, horrible end.
A wet brown sack… FULL OF MAGGOTS!
"Hell hath no fury like MY RIGHT FOOT!" Shardath yelled as he stomped upon the holy ground.
This particular necklace could be worth 1,000… If you get it to the market fast enough.
A curious dagger, with a blade stained by ancient gore; it has seen many dark deeds, yet goes unsuspected as more than some old piece of junk.
This weapon did not start out as magical. Nor was it ever enchanted. It was the touch of the Dark Man who made it a "fell item".
An otherwise simple spear, the dread blade of Hatred brings rot and decay to all it strikes, be it armour, body, or soul.
A vast tome of knowlege that literally gives you the creeps…
Curiosity killed the cat…
Yet another use for the ubiquitous Iron Spike.
Tantalum is a rare, blue-grey metal that is found deep within the chasms of Ferchiun*. Immune to all but the strongest acids, if more had heard of it would be more sought after. It is nearly as hard as adamantine and holds an edge equally as well. Those few who believed such a tale did not return from their quest to gather any, or if they did, it was not to the homes from which they came.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?