She was our first warship. By god we weren’t going to roll over and show those damned arrogant space bastards our bellies.
Arthur Eastmorland, retired Welder
A man in plate armor approaches, but you see no face, for the chilling mist seeping from every joint in the armor obscures the view.
A type of silk given by a special type of larvae, much finer than conventional silk. Gowns woven from Moonsilk are not more alluring but can also give off musical sounds as breezes rustle over them.
The mark of Kronath’s ultimate favor, the Cloak of Dusk is held by her Hunter, her chosen avatar to hunt the living dead, and return them to her embrace.
A fragment of the mighty Blades of the Storm, reworked into an icon of faith and worship to the very god who once graced it with her touch.
A brutal type of footwear.
A collection of unconventional weapons
...and walking sticks, and crosiers, and goads, and scepters, but no wands!
28- Twin Lotus
Fandune screamed as the inmate’s hands locked around his neck. With quick thinking and a little luck he managed to mutter the right words and waggle his fingers perfectly for the curse. The inmates fingers bent back upon themselves and were rendered useless.
If you know books, you know what they can do with you.
The estate-sale and auction of one, Sulphonis Odom Von Zygilvein; composer, innnovator, madman, inventor. Celebrated musical genius.
When all else fails, break the twig…
"Hey, I actually enchanted something! Wow!"
"He’d look a lot more majestic up there if he weren’t wobbling all over the place!"
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 magical Salt, a dangerous bane against ice and snow…
a slivery blade with a barbed hook at the end the blade shineing red as the light hits it
A sketch pad for casting powerful magic, if you can use it. How many uses for bunnies can you think of?
Teeth: small, durable, and full of potential, if one only knows how to tap it.
As the PCs travel the road, right after a bend they hear a sharp whistle and call: "Heeey, not so lazy, move your asses!" It is a large man that calls, and there are unwilling workers that listen. A small company, 10-15 men work on the road, push boulders aside, dig up roots from under the road, etc. The large man that shouted turns to you, smiles fast and mutters something under his breath, sounds like cursing some lazy worker. "Where does the road bring you from, travellers?" And does a little small-talk.
And what is really happening? A group of bandits is 'adapting' the road for shady purposes. The road will not be wider, but tighter, with enough cover around (and a few traps perhaps), and will become an ideal spot for ambushing travellers or entire caravans. The bandit leader wants them all to appear harmless. The 'lazy worker' he cursed was actually a guard that should give warning before any travellers come around (fallen asleep). Not surprisingly, the boss may decide for an ambush even now.