The Vault: Danger Cube
They had called it the danger cube, and me ears pricked up at the sound, at the possibilities it held within.
The Vault: Cowl of Cthulhu
The cowl is part of me now. I’m not — just — a goblin anymore. I belong to the sea, to the black and the brine.
The Vault: Gravegun
“Gravegun.” That’s what it whispered, I’m sure of it now.
The Vault: Wheel of Misfortune
The wheel’s all mine. I’ll ride it to the top, over every trapper, moonlighter, and backstabber that thinks he’s got my number.
The Vault: Bananaramarang
couldn’t wait to test it and threw it as soon as I had a chance. The bloody thing looped back and smacked me in the nose, but not before creating a puddle of slick ooze where it flew.
The Vault: Gobstompers
The first time I invoked the boot’s magic, it was an accident. Grink wouldn’t stop yammering about some shiny rock he found. I swung my foot in irritation, and the moment the boot connected, his jaw snapped shut, silent as stone.
The Vault: The Breakfast Club
The club and I—we ain’t heroes. We ain’t villains neither. We’re just hungry.
The Vault: Chain of Command
They said the chain could make hardened warriors drop their blades with a whisper.
The Vault: Bug-Out Bag
The bag had become my bug-out bag, and an infinite source of bug-friends.
The Vault: Ring Finger
I adorned the finger with two rings. One gleamed with a sharp light, promising protection in battle, while the other granted me the ability leap large distances