The Vault: Bag of Bricks
But then I clocked it: the bag o’ bricks, just sittin’ there beggin’ to be nicked. I swiped it quick. With it I could magic brick panels out o’ nuffink it were.
The Vault: Hat of Disgust
It’s gotta be magic right, belongin’ to a hag an’ all? Makes folks sick just lookin’ at it.
The Vault: Demonade
With a loud smash, the demonade shattered. A flurry of blades spun about as a marilith arose.
The Vault: Bamboots
Me? I’m just a goblin with a knack for second-story work, and these bamboots be the ticket to the high life. Literally.
The Vault: Maniacles
I smiled wide, me teeth more yellow than the sun, and pulled the maniacles from me bag. They wriggled in me hands, eager. “Go get ‘im, boys,” I muttered, and off they went, clinking and clattering
The Vault: Fire Arms
“Fire arms,” he said, puffin’ out his chest. “Nabbed ‘em from a wizard’s tower. Don’t ask how. Just try ‘em on.”
The Vault: Powdered Armor
“This ain’t armor,” I growled. “This is what pixies leave behind after a night of dancin’!”
The Vault: Guardian Gnome
I’d heard the stories. Built by gnome wizards to scare off kobolds.
The Vault: Belt of Belting
I noticed the belt around his waist. It had shiny gold plates and a huge mouth. Made his voice louder than a dragon’s fart.
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.