Mora stepped up to the wicked-looking pipe-organ; the carved demonic head which it was made from leered silently at him. Sweating with anxiety, Mora looked back to his friends before swallowing hard and shakily bringing his fingers to the ivory.

Mora pressed the keys down into several minor chords, and a thunderous peal of music echoed, sounding mockingly similar to a church. Suddenly, the eyes of the carved head lit up with fire, and with a *WHOOSH* a pillar of flames burst into life around Mora. The man's screams were cut short after just a second and the fire disappeared just as quickly. Mora was gone.

After a moment of shocked silence, Mora's friends cheered excitedly.

... And Alexi, Please don't let this bring you down. You have your entire life ahead of you - Let me become nothing more than a memory. We will never see each other again.

- Valdus

Forget the rickety, fragile skeletons. Remove all thoughts of the limping, weak zombies. Shrug off thoughts of blood-dependant vampires. Whereas the former are reflections of necromatic magic, the Mogrolyth is a creation derived from the pure essence of unholy power - namely pain.

A particularly volatile element, Imuricum is found in Adamantite covered by Red Mui'aan Fungus. Only the greatest of alchemists dare attempt extracting Raw Imuricum; only the most foolish metallurgists mix it with inferior materials, and only the bravest blacksmiths will create weapons from this rare and dangerous metal.

'You know that saying that man made god? No, of course you don't. But we didn't make god. We made the Devil, and god is just a word the frightened cling to, to protect them from their own creation. And you? You are my creation. You are my devil.

These mites fly silently and are small enough to be nearly invisible to the naked eye. If it was not for light, no one would know they were there. These creatures absorb and re-emmit light, turning dim to bright, and bright to blinding.

Deep within the shifting sands, natives whisper of creatures trapped within ancient tombs, their insane wails audible through feet of solid stone seals.
Read, now, as I delve through the mystery and bring forth the facts about the Tah'k Mumz'kar; the Bandage Beast; The Mummy.

Quote from: 'Sir Isaac Newton' Every action has an equal and opposite reaction

Originally a failed invention, the usefulness of Nurin beads have since been redifined for a more nefarious purpose. Those who know of the usefulness of these gems are able to get whatever they want from their most hated enemy, and incriminate them just hours later.

A well-loved and somewhat crudely hand-crafted tribal drum owned by the Tribal Half-Orc, Somnak. It is said that Somnak possessed the ability to call upon the spirit of any creature whose skin was pulled over the drum to aid him and his allies in battle, as well as curse his foes.

A curiously designed ring - but not uncommon. Similar in design to most traditional ‘magi-rings’, which often hold enchantments on them. But unlike those rings, this one may take quite a hold on you…

An unassuming sewing needle, five to six inches long. Certainly nothing out of the ordinary.

The tale of colourshade of the two-fold, and his reknowned skill of painting.

Herein lies the histories of Warpriest Lazarus, righteous fist of Tridoa. Lord Lightward the Lunar Hammer.

Herein lies the birth of Lazarus Lightward the Hellpriest; Trickster of Devils and Master of the Bloodied Moon.

Lavish glade and lush green field,

Wizen'd oaks; to the blight all yield.

Weeping trees of crimson blood,

the Fields of Flesh turn life to mud.

Will you tread and smile and sleep

where devils dance and angels weep?

Changing the Maddux is a difficult as changing the weather. And like the storm on the horizon, all one can do when Maddux sings is to prepare yourself as best you can.

For three long days the violent storm had ravaged the town of Iolinas, and the townsfolk had begun to wonder if it would ever end. Strangely, towards the end of the third day, the rain stopped suddenly, though the winds still buffetted the town relentlessly; some townsfolk thought it was finally the break in the storm. Others thought it was a portent of worse things to come... These people were correct.

A christmas gift to my fellow citadelians, made in my favourite medium. Of course, you all know what my gifts are like. But hey, Christmas is a time of giving!

An innocent square of delicate material - barely larger than a handkerchief in size. However, those who's skin come into contact with this cloth, may find themselves wishing they never handled it.