Dark Lands is a dark magical prison/labrynth created by a long dead Dark Mage. His secrets were kept alive by his followers and they sold enchanted artifacts to those with enough riches to purchase them. These artifacts contain the power to spellcast the target into the deadly prison where it’s victims worst nightmares are manifested into reality. Read more in the full version!
A prized possession lost ... easy to hurt, difficult to find, and with a tendency to lose itself again, only a white feather left behind…
Leather gloves that grant one the ability to manipulate metal.
“Bah!” The bowman cried, for his bow had fallen apart in his very hands, after firing but one arrow! “Wait until I get to that weaponsmith. These arrows are obviously cursed!” The bowman discarded the quiver of 200 arrows by the road, where scavengers found it, and each separate arrow went their own ways with different owners, as time passed. Some found them cursed. Others, found that they may not be as cursed as one thinks.
It is a popular view amongst magic-users, that most members of the Cult of Malidon are just bitter people, blaming magic for their private losses and defeats, often seeking to silence some other qualms with burning witches. For one low cultist at least, this view is completely wrong…
A tool to keep body and spirit fit!
Small wooden discs about 2 1/4 inches in diameter and between 5 and 10mm thick (see below). They are rumoured to be made from the roots of the great tree Unity that supports the centre of the world.
Firey food for your favorite feathered friend.
Even some of the most mundane-seeming items may have surprising and useful - or dangerous - qualities about them. This particular item is one of those.
A young lady of common birth, ascended to the heights of society, and then cast down into the despair of unlife, seeking a dead love.
This mace, is the symbol of the kadumish dwarve’s independence. In the days of old, the dwarves were defeated and invaded by the dragon men, who enslaved the dwarves. Dranothoin, stood up to them wit his mighty mace and smote the granite statue of the dragon men god. This inspired the dwarves to revolt.
Within the fragile bounds of this cage of crystalline metal, your will and talent may work wonders…
4 bladed claw weapon, with the fourth blade in a rather unusual place.
It’s a flying city which hosts a school of ancient technology…
A prison ... a sanctuary ... a gateway ... a murderous tool. Grasp the power of a circle of midnight.
The tough, hardy adventurers equip up and go out to kill a pack of goblins terrorising the city. Of course, they succeed without trouble and make their way back but their first encounter with a guard patrol on the way back, tells them something is not right…
A sword that learns and teaches, forever singing of past and present.
An armor that senses wearer’s needs?
This beautiful hand-and-a-halfer allows the wielder to pass judgement on the equipment of others.
“Inn keeper, your best all around” hollared the newcomer jovefully; tossing gold onto the counter, “and for you bard” tossing him a small purse, “some lessons” he added with a wink and a laugh.
When the sheriff entered the inn the next day, he found a carnal house, with patrons either on the ground with green foam runnig from thier mouths or cut to pieces. 11 dead, and someone had sport with the barmaid before killing her.
Tomais Reives is always quick with a smile or a joke or to buy the next round. He dresses expensively with a lot of flash and always seems to be the life of the party.
He its like by almost everyone, he has only one little flaw; He likes to kill; a lot.
If he did it for some master, or for some dark, it might be better.
He just does it because be can.
These creatures are desert animals that are much like huge, quadripedal sloths. They have a hide made of heavy scales to keep out gritting sand, and over that, a thick coat of fur.
During sandstorms, and when they sleep, Suppoki bed down in the sand, covering themselves up until they are miniature dunes.
Suppoki derive what sustenance they can from water sinks, dew, and underground insects.
Suppoki are often ridden by desert tribesmen. They are stubborn and slow, but are often the difference between life and death out on the sands.