A thankfully rare mineral that burn's one skin as if the Devil himself had spit on you
Sometimes, you just want to accept that something tastes good without knowing how it was made.
If you had writing as bad as Corran's, you'd look for a way around it too.
All it takes for evil to triumph is for Ennui to convince good men to do nothing.
The leader of the Seven Brave inhabits this arrogant weapon.
The deadliest Sinblade, Wrathbringer is coveted by the violent and feared by all.
Coins for those with friends who live far away.
I am the mask that grins and lies
I'll hide your face and shield your eyes....
Even the most despicable and evil Tyrant will be convinced they pale in comparison to this monstrosity.
The Truth Mage, Veracit, feared to utilize the Observer's Paradox, uncomfortable with their perilous effect on reality.
"This sword! It's helping me connect all the dots!"
"Yeah, even the dots that don't exist!"
Despite becoming the god of creation later in life, Corran was renowned as being a master craftsman first, and possibly the worst cook to ever live second. This cooking set changed all that.
What do you do when your shield is more courageous than you?
Named for Corran, the epitome of artificers and craftsmen; the flame of creation is often too powerful to control.
A magical pair of glasses once allowed the sharpest of minds to perceive the physical world around him. His cutting insight, throwing light on the darkest of secrets, is now housed within the spectacles.
"I was out on that lake for a good eight hours trying to dreg up that seaweed, and boy did I get burned."
As Corran spoke, his walking stick started to glow, suddenly erupting flames over his left foot.
"What do you mean I changed clothes?"
"Sir- did you steal that cloak"
"Of course not! Haven’t you seen fabric change color before?"
A weapon for those in dire need, Corran’s glove holds a nasty surprise.
The weapon of choice of the royal guards, the Danamax rapier is a symbol of an enduring dynasty.
The Jiangsi was the name of an undead being in Chinese folklore and mythology. Usually translated as zombie or vampire for Western palates, the Jiangsi was really neither. They appeared as simply risen, fresh corpses. They moved (peculiarly!) by hopping rather than walking, and sought out the living to suck the Qilife force from their victims.
Perhaps significantly more interesting than the Jiangsi itself, was the lore surrounding them. "Zombie wranglers", or "Corpse Herders", usually Daoist priests, were men tasked with delivering these undead beings back to their respective home towns. Tradition in China placed great importance and emphasis on the return of the dead to their homes and families, and thus the corpse herders came to be. By using magick words and talismans they would animate the dead, and by placing specially inscribed parchments of paper over the Jiangsi heads and faces, the corpse herders would be able to control the hopping corpses. Then like pied pipers, they would lead processions of subdued undead, across many miles, rhythmically chanting and ringing tiny bells.
Special inns were built across China to house these undead caravans, as the zombies could only travel by evening and night, the sun anathema to them. Rows of doors opening to barely a closet-space, lined the walls of these special establishments. Behind these doors, the corpses would be stored upright while the corpse herders rested in rooms.
The Jiangsi under the control of a corpse herder were quite harmless, merely hopping after him, silently and without complaint, for weeks and months. If however, the magicked parchment would somehow be removed from their faces, the creatures would immediately seek living humans to kill. Their thirst for Qi was unquenchable.
The job of a corpse herder was an interesting one to say the least.