This flute when played by an elven mage or other wizards of good magic can use it’s melody for many uses.
The song of fire can summon heat
the song of water can flood even the smallest of creeks
the song of wind can create hurricane type winds.
The power of each summon is based on it’s users willpower. You think the power of your summon Ex: play the song of fire but want a small spark then think a small spark. Not for novince wizards, weak minded or dirty minded folk
Maris is a thief. A common, low down, swarmy thief. It’s not her fault she’s that way, though. She’s nice, has a sweet personality, and is most likely to talk a person into giving ‘the poor, suffering little me’ their money, due to her limited skills as a pickpoket.
What she is skilled at, however, is very, very strange for a theif. She likes reading, and has collected many old manuscripts, and is sometimes saught out for just knowledge.
Three shuriken carved from the skull of a dragon, they say they never miss the heart…
When a local farmer discovers something at the bottom of his new well, the fate of the land will hang in the balance.
The beautiful garden underground in which the Understar and her 9 Monsters are imprisoned.
The Understar is the ruler of a people who no longer exist, a sorceress schooled in magic that yearns to be forgotten, and a master of the 9 Monsters.
He is the chief ranger of HalÃ©fas, otherwise known as the white wood. With his ranger patrole of seasoned fighters:Vaxtar, Wellfur and Dawmith, they defend their home from the evils that lurk all around.
It was a beautiful thing, a full length mirror in an elaborate gilt frame. But horror and madness followed it.
She wouldn’t ever let anyone get close to her, and wore gloves all the time. She never let anyone know it, but she had a good reason.
Licarathia was always more at home in the woods than she was at her house. So maybe the secret she had wasn’t all that surprising.
Never get lost again with this set of magical stones.
A small magical plant with a love for pulling pranks.
Ever wish you looked a little tougher than you actually are? Well, the Cowl of False Reputation has you covered.
There lies a valley, far to the west, on the shores of The Great Northern Sea, that has a mist that is both blessing and curse. All those that breath the mist heal with remarkable speed, so fast that only the mightiest blow or the truest strike can fell the smallest beast. The warriors who settled this land became soilders of great renown, for not only were they impenetrable defenders, they were warriors whose aim and might were unsurpassed.
A sad little spirit who lives by a pond, and is very lonely…
These magical gloves will make sure your fancy suit isn’t ruined by the odd stain or spill.
A group of travelers come across an abandoned village and find themselves in a battle for their lives.
A cleaver the size of a large shield.
Simple cloth armour with a not so simple secret.
The city of Caulderon is the mythic flying city. Once a magnificent city on a cliff, it was saved from being lost to the sea by being lifted by alchemical means. It was filled with impossibly tall shining spires standing above golden domes. The sunlight striking it is said to blind those who come to invade the city. The people lived in this magnificent city in health, wealth, and safety. They rode Griffons and created all sorts of creature. Caulderon was known for its magic, its alchemy. In the old tongue, the word Caulder means alchemey, from the word Cauldron. It is from their alchemey that their great wealth and comfort is derieved.
Legends (and Elven History) states that the floating city would visit The Lands once every few years, blown by the winds. They would trade for things and sell their magikal goods. After a year or so, their cities would be be blown to other places. It has been over four hundred years since any credible source has seen the floating cities. It is the thing of legends.
Then why has one been seen over the Land?