30 Orcish Ornamentations of Outlandish Awesomeness and Some Ordinarily Uninteresting Objects Overcome with Ogreish Opulence!

"That not normal dark. My eyes can not see in it." - Bloodrock, Orcish Warrior.

The secret device behind the most feared corrosive substance to ever plague the mortal realms.

Hazenbrazen & Gribaldy: Two Necromancers taking over the world one corpse at a time.

The Cursed form of poor Shump Thokk. He will offer helpful advice to anyone who dons the helmet.

"Are you crazy? There ain't no such thing. It's all fairy tales for the stupid and desperate. Even if it were, they all say it's cursed or something. Get back to work."

These are the Gods of Food and Eating! Beware their culinary prowess and tremble before the might of their cookery! These are... More Placeholder Gods!

The Master walked over to the strange symmetrical mechanism. He flipped it over... The sands of the hourglass began to flow and it whirred to life. "One hour," said The Master, "Practice."

As soon as he had set his eyes upon The Sword of all Swords he knew it must be the perfect blade for him. And he would stop at nothing to possess it!

A ShortBow created by a community of Gnomes who liked to simplify things. It has three strings. Each string has a very different effect.

With a twitch of the leg and the push of a button; Houston's boots emitted a massive amount of steam and he was sent headlong into the air.

'Hell hath no fury like MY RIGHT FOOT!' Shardath yelled as he stomped upon the holy ground.

A wet brown sack... FULL OF MAGGOTS!

"Aww, dang, did you fart again?" asked the Jordy, The Knight.
"No, screw you! I didn't fart in the first place!" replied The Scoundrel, Harris. What they didn't know was that the Smelbinders could hear their every word.

A mighty Demon, now trapped and confused, may make for a powerful ally.

"All I could do was stare as my strange opponent hefted his key-like lance. He told me my armor would only hinder me in this fight. I didn’t believe him at the time, but he was right."

This is a wretched tome of oceanic blasphemy; a foul water-stained, bone-white binder of bitter dead-men's secrets and a guide to Nautical Necromancy useful in the hands of the young sea-faring necromancer or the Great Lich Umeen herself.

You see a glowing figure, four feel tall, it looks like it has been waiting for you. Suddenly, it flies right through you, and it looks like its coming around for another pass...

“Oh look, a glass wall between us and the treasure.”

"Greetings, Mortal," Said the bubbly, hissing voice in his head... What the hell was that, he thought. "Not hell, the Ocean. Walk into the surf, my child. I will protect you."