Pure magic. spells. Items, Wizards.
After the sorceress Rigalene died, those going through her estate were puzzled. Where were all her books? And how would they find homes for all these cats?
Many magical items adventurers seek out help them carry more loot, keep themselves fed and healthy, or just simply hack the bad guys to itty bitty bits. This one lets their loot carry itself.
This looks like an elaborately fashioned wooden egg-cup, but it is a powerful magical tool, used mainly by witches to conjure up spirits and familiars.
"Commander... every chime in a five mile radius is making a racket. Something big is coming... something mean."
A very brief look at some minor Elemental familiars.
The flask itself is not very important, any flask will do. It is the WibliÃ« itself wich is important. This special drink carried by the rangers of Halefas is also a great need of other countries. Merchants from around Hamset come to the great market street of Ellivanor in hope of ubtaining this liquid.
Exerpt from the Introduction:
I know the ultimate weapon. Humans commit folly after folly because they are afraid. Fear was once Humankind’s most powerful ally, giving enormous potency to the instinct for suvival. Now, fear has become Humankind’s greatest enemy, and such is the obtusemenss of my species that is members do not realize it is the most powerful element of Human existance.
Find a penny, pick it up.
And all the day you’ll have good luck.
Small puppets who take on the likeness of their owner upon death. They act as a silent sentry, militia, or officer of the law in the war stricken Dim-Sii Tribes of the Southern Lands
Many begin to path to master the seven-fold flame, but with one exception, no one has ever mastered all seven faces of fire.
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.