“ Tämbourine is firmly placed on my back ,to unsheathe this sword I simply have to say 're clouse' meaning come to me or i can just reach over and unsheathe it the old fashioned way. This sword was created to my liking tambourine is made of raw-like metals I found in different regions as I begun to forge the metals together, I've noticed that the raw metal materials were different pieces to a wide variety of swords that were used the past and present, being so most blades have a sheer grey texture Tambourine's blade became black as the depths of the oceans. The blade expands to 6' which weighs 426lbs the sapphire jewel placed on the tip of hilt (upper middle center of the base) it emits a aura texture of purple which weighs 24lbs the jewel is un-breakable it negates magic for tambourine has a mind of its own only belonging to me it finds a worthy opponents who doesn't use magic or any type of power to their liking which I can agree with(who would want an opponent that abuses their powers to kill for no reason or to avoid dying by honor tambourine fights with honor and accepts its glory or defeat) I've named the sapphire Sophia because not only that its rare and radiant it resembles my burning passion for my love Sophia. I made the hilt to be a length of 15 inches its frame is created with fine katchin (very thick and heavy metal) it alone weighs 50 pounds its texture is black like mixture of, I made it to be a cruciform hilt so it has room for two hands. I I made the blades hilt aprox. 2', the blade is double-edged but the left side of the swords frame can block and or negate ones attack if needed, it weights 500lbs making it nearly unmovable. To go up against this sword is to quickly find your own death. Tambourine is a twin sword to Terra.”
“ The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... 'Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate' reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...”
“ War of the Roses as a campaign plot. Two noble lines converge somehow, each line thinks it has the rightful claim to the throne. Deciding this long ago was handled by some divine intervention, requiring both houses to come together at some point. They aren't so willing to get together this time. Civil war, or a new king?”