Philtres of War

The philtres of war are popular with soldiers and warriors throughout the Empire. They invigorate personal reserves and strengthen the body, as well as helping to focus the will.

Restoring Hero Points

These potions restore spent hero points. They will not give a character hero points if they do not already possess them.

Philtre of Strength

In old wives' tales, the philtre of strengh allows someone to perform supernatural feets of strength, endurance or inspiration. In actuality, they can only bring out what is already present. Tinged with blue, this translucent potion restores reserves of strength. It is popular with fighting men and women throughout the Empire, granting them the ability to push themselves well beyond natural limits. It is especially valuable to those with smaller reserves of personal power, letting them go to more heroic lengths to achieve their goals than they might otherwise attain.

• 'Effect: You regain 1 spent hero point. If you have no hero points this potion has no effect.
• Roleplaying Effect: The drinker feels all cares and worries fall away, and feels a strong urge to shout, bellow or sing something as they are suddenly invigorated.
• Recipe: Two drams of True Vervain and one dram of Bladeroot.

Bannerman's Honey

This potent elixir strengthens the flagging spirits of the battered knight, and gives renewed vigour to the bard or the bannerman. It is a thick, syrupy potion with a deep amber glow that many find quite beautiful.

'Effect: You regain up to 3 spent hero point. If you have no hero points this potion has no effect. Roleplaying Effect: The drinker feels a burst of renewed energy, and feels an urge to act immediately in pursuit of their short-term goals. Further, they also feel a strong urge to share their confidence with and raise the morale of their allies, to inspire others to follow their lead. Recipe: Three drams of True Vervain, two drams each of Imperial Roseweald and Bladeroot.

Elixir of Inspired Puissance

This effervescent deep-green elixir is very rare and consequently much sought after. Originally formulated in Urizen, the apothecary dissolves a small amount of the star metal Ilium in a powerful herbal concoction to create a truly magical preparation. The deeper the reserves of personal power the drinker has, the more powerful the effect - there are stories of bottles of this miraculous elixir being handed down as heirlooms by noble houses in Dawn, successive generations refusing to drink the potion unless they are facing a challenge greater than that faced during the previous generation when the potion was not touched. In the League this elixir is sometimes called Rosalinde's Reversal after the Sarvosan mercenary captain who used it to great effect to battle two armies of barbarians in the same day, inspiring her troops with her irrepressible spirit and besting not one but two orcish chieftans in personal combat.

• Effect: You regain all spent hero points, and gain an additional hero point. This additional hero point is the first one spent when you spend hero points, and does not stack with other sources of additional hero points. If you have not used this temporary hero point within half an hour it is lost. If you do not have hero points this preparation has no effect.
• Roleplaying Effect: The drinker is filled with a sensation of immense confidence and self-belief. More than that, they feel a very strong urge to share their confience with, and demonstrate their prowess to, everyone nearby
• Recipe: Three drams of Imperial Roseweald, two drams each of True Vervain and Bladeroot and a single pawn of Ilium.

Tincture of the Whipped Cur

This sinister poison causes weakness and enervation. It robs the victim of the strength to deliver powerful blows, and saps the will to fight. Possession of the tincture is not technically illegal in the Empire, but in the past its possession during the quarterly summits at Anvil has been recognised as supporting evidence of intent during trials for treason.

As with several poisons, the tincture of the whipped cur has a mixed history in the Empire. For every treachery - such as when the three children of Maud, Steward of Wayford used it to weaken their mother before murdering the doughty warrior at a feast - there is a story of its use in service to the Empire. When the corrupted boyar Jicov the Hungry and his Schlacta were preparing to offer the citizens of their vale to an unspeakable Sovereign in Karsk, a brave servant aided his Warden opponents by dosing the great feast with this preparation. Without it's use, the Boyar and his men would have slaughtered all opposition, and set in motion events too horrible to contemplate.

• 'Effect: You lose all hero points regardless of their source. You may recover hero points as normal.
• Roleplaying Effect: The drinker is wracked with doubt and emotional turmoil, and must fight to avoid succumbing to despair.
• Recipe: Two drams of Bladeroot and one dram each of Cerulean Mazzarine and Marrowort.

Amaryl pulled the tiny bottle, hollowed from a single piece of amber, from his pocket. He weighed it in his hand for a moment as he tried to judge how the situation was. Two of his brother-knights were down and bleeding, a third was being aided by Lord Bohemond, but did not look good. On the other hand one of the ogres was lying on its side, clearly bleeding to death, while Sir Marthe and Sir Leopold harried the others with withering steel.

Yet through the trees he could make out two more ogres and at least a dozen more orcs, one of them with the pale skin that marked her out as almost certainly either a shaman or a veteran warrior. Sir Marthe was clearly keeping herself on her feet through force of will alone, her shield hung battered and broken at her side and the arm beneath at least as broken. Lord Bohemond looked drawn, his reserves of magic clearly depleted as he feverishly attended to Sir Marthe's shattered leg. Sir Leopold was drenched in blood, and only some of it had come out of the dying ogre.

"Is this the time?" he wondered.

As if sensing his uncertainty - or more likely responding to the motion of taking it from his pouch - the elixir in the amber bottle began to bubble gently. "Is this a more dire situation than when my uncle faced the water-drake at Perinore? More dreadful than the siege of East Bower in the time of Earl Heshelton? Will two ogres and a dozen orcs overwhelm the House of Ceramore where the curse of the Witchwater failed?"

Before he could decide a pair of red-painted Navarr in blood-soaked leather exploded from the trees to the right, taking the surviving ogre in the flank. Behind them he heard a horn blowing, and knew that Mfanwy and the Thorns of the Seventh Day had finally reached their position.

As he ran across the glade he slipped the elixir back into his pocket, and drew his other sword. While he was still weary, the arrival of his allies had given him renewed vigour. As he leapt into the fray, the young knight spared a moment to consider how close he had come to wasting the precious philtre; perhaps in a generation's time his own daughter would face a similar hard choice - assuming she passed her Test of Mettle, of course.