Just for Fun
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The Diviner's Mirror
Ancient legends tell of a powerful diviner whose tower stood long before the time of troubles. From her tall perch high above the trees of the land below, she let slip her magic and it in turn returned whispers to her ears of kings, deceptions and betrayal, of love and worth. Her eyes could turn, it is told, to gaze into softly rippling pools of water and view sights from across the kingdom, to where ever, and to whom ever she might want to see. And the rulers of the land feared that power–for the axiom is true, that knowledge is power.
And so they sent assasins aplenty as well as brave knights. All fell to her all seeing eyes and ears. Yet she feared what might occur to her, in the last place she could not see, or her, or touch with her keen mind--the future. So she lay the candles, and the lines, and the incantations. Her movements precise, and practiced. And so the portal opened, and as she gazed through to the infernal realms she spoke her request--"Grant unto me the power to see..."A reed thin finger snaked through the light and pointing to a small hand mirror a voice rasped "I know of your desires diviner, to see the future. Bring to me that mirror, and your request shall be granted." So she lighted up to fetch the mirror and quickly held it in place as the hellish being inscribed symbols in a language long past and lost around it's edge with it's keenly sharp nail. "It is done, the future you shall see--as will any who gaze onto that mirors flat face."
It is said that those who wield absolute power are a hairsbreadth from insanity. Perhaps it happened thus, for the future is an increible power to wield. But perhaps, and perhaps more truthfully, it was what she saw in her future that caused her to be found dead, emaciated and starved, on the floor of her tower--the mirror still clutched in one hand. She had seen in it's face her own death by poisoning.
The Diviner's Mirror
To the looker it shows a hiddeous and grisley vision of a possibility of their death.
On Use (Once per day) Cast fear (lvl 10) -
Paragons
The half-celestial smith, Tel'quin'oriel, crafted these weapons as pinnacles of their type. Each created to be the epitome of what that weapons represented to him, the items have links not only to each other, but to any who feel a kinship with a certain weapon.
Dagger - The Secret Strike
This smooth, sleek dart of metal seems coated with lamp-black, and is as light as a feather in the hands of the wielder. Aside from ease with which it peels flesh from bone, the dagger lends the ease with which it remains unnoticed to it's wielder at command.
20% Weight Reduction
Keen
+d4 massive criticals
Cast Spell: Improved Invisibility (7) 1/dayStaff - The Wayfarer's Friend
This heavy staff is shod with iron at both hands, and trail dust has accumulated in the heavy grain of the cured oak. A sense of security, the longing for the horizon, all of these things the staff imparts, as well as that which is needed to seek it.
+2 Reflex saves
Cast spell: Freedom (7) 3/daySickle - The Careful Harvest
The iron of the crude sickle is stained and notched around the blade, and no amount of cleaning or care seems able to remove these marks. Rust, wood-marks, bloodstains present in equal measure, making a smoothly mottled appearence. When grasped, the pure, unsullied tie to the earth it offers is felt keenly.
+3 Enhancement vs Outsiders
Cast spell: Banishment 1/dayClub - The Simple Tool
As simple as a branch broken from a tree, this wooden club nevertheless is balanced as perfectly as any held. The primal, utterly simple nature of the weapon makes itself felt, blows landing heavily and crunching through defenses.
+5 Attack Bonus
-5 Attack BonusMorningstar - The Crushing Spike
Each link of the chain of this weapon is progressively thicker, until the final is almost the size of the spiked ball itself. It's movements are simple and smooth, the metal gleaming bright and the wood a rich mahogany. In battle, these traits are amplified until the bearer is nothing more than a whirling, crushing dervish.
+1 piercing damage
+1 bludgeoning damage
Cast spell: Bull's Strength (3) 1/day
Cast Spell: Haste (5) 1/DayCrossbow - The Soldier's Tool
A sleekly styled crossbow is made of laminated woods, each straining against the others and the metal bolts, and the finely tied string. The action of the loading lever is almost effortless, and the bolt-groove perfectly straight.
+1 AB
Bonus Feat: Rapid Shot
Bonus Feat: Rapid Reload -
The Black Cloak of Bane:
Throughout the twisted halls of the Zhent Keep, the priests of Bane have saught every angle to ensure the locale fear and obey their words with impunity. After working tirelessly with enslaved wizards and Thayan opportunists, a set of powerful magical cloaks were created so that the very sight of Bane's priests would imbue a strange sense of fear and admiration within one's soul. Receiving the cloak marks the ascension of a priest into a line of well established Tyrants, and is considered by many Zhents to be one of the highest honors among Bane's faithful.
Enchantments:
-2 CHA
DC 12 Fear Aura
+1 AB vs. Lawful GoodClass Restriction: Cleric
Alignment Restriction: Evil -
Curse of the masquerade
Once upon a time there was a maskite with a great potential on disguising and bluffing. He cheated and stole from people right in front of their eyes and he kept his face content. Even with his great abilities, he faced a problem: Once there was a paladin in town, he'd ultimately get caught because of the paladin. After traveling from town to town, cheating, lying and even killing, he came upon a powerful artifact. It was an amulet with considerable power.
He wore the amulet and continued his work. He was amazed at how the amulet affected him. No more did the paladins see through his lies. He was free to lie, steal, kill and nobody would ever think he was to be accused of it. But the blessing came with a curse. After several years, he started slowly turning insane. It all started out slowly. First his mind was distracted easily, but the longer he wore the amulet, the worse were the consequences. After another year he was screeching madly when supposed to laugh, laughing while killing cold-blooded, telling the truth while supposed to lie.
He was ultimately caught, but he was able to break from the jail and run to a nearby forest. He was found several days later, each and every one of his fingers and toes cut off, his arms soaked in blood from the wounds, his eyes and ears ripped off and finally, a dagger stabbed through his heart. Only the amulet was gone…
Properties: Amulet
wisdom -3
charisma +1
saving throws: Mind Affecting (-2)
Cursed
(( Something that blocks detect evil )) -
Bag of Winds
Captain Jack Henry once inquired with a wizard at Waterdeep to see if he can shift the winds to his favor. After an exchange of coins, the wizard gave Captain Jack Henry a small bag, and told him that the direction he opens the bag is the direction the wind comes out of. After each use of the bag, he would have to refill it with a new amount of air before it could be used again. Though, one day Captain Jack opened the bag the wrong way and blew himself in what some people say, out of existance. His bag has been passed from Ship Captain to Ship Captain for decades, each Ship Captain warned of the consequences of being careless with the bag.
Bag of Winds
Gust of Winds 1/Day -
Eyes on the Prize
The infamous jive-talkin' bard of the Sword Coast, Cyrus Kyne, was as heralded for his lust for loot as for his questionable musical talent. He devoted his life to the acquisition of treasure, and spent a small fortune ensuring that wherever the treasure was, he could get it. Wearing his trademark goggles, he was eaten by an unfriendly mimic, but his last words still ring throughout dungeons and plundered temples everywhere: "Put your life on the line for LOOT!"
Pot Helmet
+5 Open Lock
+5 Disable Trap
-2 Will Saves-Cross
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Back in the saddle, a bit rusty, give me some leeway on the descriptions and pretty much everything else.
-War and Peace (Fullplate)
Item Description:
This heavy set of plate armor is composed of blackened steel rimmed with crimson reinforcement plates. The smell of blood accompanies the armor at all times, faint, almost intangible, but everpresent. Inscribed across the breastplate of the armor are the following words: "War Rages Eternal. Peace Cannot Be Found Without War."
The origins of these suits of armor date three hundred years ago to a minor conflict between Amnian and Tethyrian forces. The war originated over a minor border dispute, but quickly bloomed into a major battle. The Amnian forces, much stronger and better equipped than their Tethyrian counterparts, advanced upon the Tethyrian capital. The outnumbered Tethyrians, with poor equipment and morale, were surprised on the eve of battle with a visit from several powerful wizards. The wizards offered the Tethyrians these suits of armor with which to equip themselves, promising they would turn the tide of battle.
The Tethyrian King accepted, and his men wore these suits of plate the following morning when combat ensued. Beneath a crimson morning sky, the Tethyrians fought so savagely that the Amnian forces were defeated and pushed back towards the borders of their country, a glorious victory for the Tethyrian nation in such a short war.
When the Amnian Council offered overtures of peace, the Tethyrian King was quick to accept, sending his negotiators clad in this armor to bargain favorable terms with the Amnians. However, the armor's strength was in battle, and the negotiators accepted poor terms for the nation of Tethyr, surrendering a significant portion of the nation's borders to Amn.
The wizards who had provided the armor were paid handsomely by the King of Tethyr. The wizards then handed the money to the Amnian Council, which was pleased that its agents had managed to subvert both resources and capital from a foreign nation. War was merely another economic tool, as much as promises of peace were, and the Council was not afraid to shed blood to gain power.
Item Properties:
- Ability Bonus: Constitution +1
- Ability Bonus: Dexterity +1
- Ability Bonus: Strength +1
- AC Bonus +1
- Decreased Ability Score: Charisma -1
- Decreased Ability Score: Intelligence -1
- Decreased Ability Score: Wisdom -1
- Immunity: Miscellaneous: Fear
-Hope Springs Eternal (Miscellaneous Medium;iit_midmisc_124)
Item Description:
This orb pulses with power, resembling a cascade of water constantly spinning and falling within a contained sphere. The energy contained within is palpable, and may be released by shattering the orb, which sprays the wielder's allies with a cleansing fall of water and energy.
These orbs appeared throughout Faerun with the demise of Mystra, goddess of magic, during the Time of Troubles. Wizards believed they contained portions of the goddess' magical essence, and they were highly sought after as tools of magical study. Several bands of heroes recovered these orbs and used them as instruments against the darkness that swept across Faerun, providing a powerful source of healing and life when they were faced with imminent death. With Midnight's assumption of Mystra's powers and the close of the Avatar Crisis, most of the orbs disappeared, but a few remain, often found in areas in Faerun still devoid of magic. They are a powerful tool to those for whom there is no chance of life.
Item Properties:
- Cast Spell: Mass Heal (15) Single Use
-Touch of the Tide (Quarterstaff)
Item Description:
This quarterstaff seems made of blued steel, and the design of the main shaft resembles waves circling about each other, up to the edges of the staff, which curve outward in both directions to resemble a lazy, placid wave, inscribed with the symbol of Umberlee. The wielder is protected by the staff from the touch of the cold, and can summon the internal water power of the staff in several icy manifestations.
The staff was a gift to a priestess of Umberlee from her husband, an officer in the Cormyrian Navy. She asked the blessings of her lady, and the staff was remade into a tool of the sea goddess' might. When the war with the Devil Dragon came upon Cormyr, her husband sailed against forces threatening the coastal city of Marsember. She waited anxiously by the ports for seven days and seven nights, blessings those who asked for the protection of her lady and cursing those who did not.
Upon the eighth day, her husband's ship returned, bearing his corpse and those of most of the crew, who had perished in a fierce sea battle. Grief-stricken, the priestess commandeered the ship, threw the crew off, and directed it against the small fleet that had killed her husband. Summoning the might of Umberlee, she drove the waves against the fleet, crushing their hulls with her power, and summoning ice from the skies to pount their masts and crew. The battle raged for a long night, until the priestess collapsed amidst the deck, exhausted from wielding her goddess' power, and her battered ship slowly sank beneath the waves, taking her to the bottom with her mistress.
The staff was lost with her, but some believe it may have floated to shore near Marsember, and may yet find its way into the hands of those who please its maiden.
Item Properties:
- AC Bonus vs. Racial Group: Elemental +2
- Cast Spell: Ice Dagger (2) 2 Charges/Use
- Cast Spell: Ice Storm (9) 5 Charges/Use
- Cast Spell: Ray of Frost (1) 1 Charge/Use
- Cast Spell: Summon Water Elemental 5 Charges/Use
- Damage Resistance: Cold Resist 15 / -
-Elemental Blade of Frost (Longsword)
Item Description:
This blade consists of a thin shaft of mithral attached to a stronger pommel made of mithral and a handle covered in the skin of Winter Wolves. The mithral shaft is strong but of little deadliness in combat and difficult to wield; it is the crystals and shards of frost that constantly freeze and liquidize across it that give it is strength in combat. The handle protects the wielder from a small amount of cold.
Forged a thousand years ago by frost giant shamans in service to Auril, the weapon held a ceremonial purpose amongst a multitude of tribes scattered across the Spine of the World, playing a major part in religious rituals and sacrifices for over nine hundred and eighty years. The blade was lost to the tribes when they allied against the Icewind Dales during the time of troubles, and the peoples of the Dales recovered it following the giants' defeat. It has since passed through many hands, its very nature and uniqueness creating such inspection that its special combat abilities are rarely recompense for the attention of thieves and treasure hunters its wielder attracts.
Item Properties:
- Damage Bonus: Cold 1d8 Damage
- Damage Resistance: Cold Resist 15 / -
- Decreased Attack Modifier -3
- No Combat Damage
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Bat of Bat Batting
Legend has it that the first of these clubs was made in a drunken contest between Lantese gnomes who were Faithful of Gond. The challenge was to create the silliest yet still useful item of magic. This one is quite helpful to spelunkers and those cave dwellers cursed with an excess of pesky bats (as well as other common vermin).
The runner up created the spell known as the Screwdriver of the Gods (the predecessor to the more commonly known Hammer of the Gods spell), but he got screwed in the end.
Club
Attack Bonus vs. Racial Group: Vermin +1
Damage Bonus vs. Racial Type: Vermin 2 Damage Electrical
Enhancement Bonus +1 -
Darkrane (Greatsword)
Item Description:
A large blade is the dominant visual impression when one first sees this weapon. The blade itself is magical steel, with traces of mithral and adamantine used in the hilt and crossguard. A small ripple of energy can be observed traveling the blade obliquely. The hilt and pommel are small, appearing made for dainty hands, and a small inscription along the blade reads: "Through the blood of the traitors shall our people's unity be born again."
The blade itself was forged early in 1372 D.R. as the weapon of a lesser elven hero. A refuge from the Drow invasion of the woods of Cormanthyr, the elf escape and made his way to Arabel, seeking refuge within the human lands of Cormyr.
Forming a warband from scattered elves travelling through the human lands, he conducted a campaign against the Drow and Zhentarim occuping the ancient fallen city of Myth Drannor, succeeding in restoring some small measure of peace to the restless elven spirits there.
His deeds within the lost city attracted the attention of both the Harpers and Evermeet, and the elf was recognized by both for his prowess and service. The elf later returned to Arabel in an attempt to restore unity to the elven warband that had fragmented during his absence, but went to his death protecting a small group of elves who were murdered during a religous ceremony, because his loyalty to his people would allow nothing less.
The blade still bears some essence of the elf's strong personality, from his affinity to magic to the many Drow and Demons that fell beneath the swing of his greatsword. A gem inset in the blade's pommel also provides protection against the only means by which Drow were able to fell the elf. Had the elf had the blade on him when he was killed, it would indeed have served him well. As it was, the blade was lost in a store of artifacts being transported by Harper agents and fell into unknown hands.
Item Properties:
Attack Bonus vs. Alignment Group: Evil +2
Attack Bonus vs. Racial Group: Elf +2
Base Item Weight Reduction 60% of Weight
Damage Bonus: Magical 1d4 Damage
Enhancement Bonus +1
Immunity: Specific Spell Finger of Death
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Good
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Neutral
Use Limitation: Racial Type: Elf
Use Limitation: Racial Type: Half-ElfWrithing Vines (Spear)
Item Description:
This twisted spear appears made almost completely of ironwood, except for the metal head forged from magical steel. Greenery extends across the ironwood, preventing most from wielding hte weapon, but the vines form into handgrips when wielded by a woodsman. The vines can be channeled into various forms of assault, from firing spikes to causing the nearby ground to rise up against a foe.
The spears themselves originate deep within the Hullack forests, wielded by a society of druids and rangers rumored to be compromised mostly of orcbloods. Spending most of their lives deep within the forests, their weaponry are emblematic of the tangled nature of the forest, enabling them to replicate the environment should they ever leave the boundaries of the Hullack.
Item Properties:
Cast Spell: Entangle (5) 2 Charges/Use
Cast Spell: Quillfire (8) 5 Charges/Use
Cast Spell: Vine Mine (9) 5 Charges/Use
Enhancement Bonus +1
Use Limitation: Class: Druid
Use Limitation: Class: Ranger
Use Limitation: Class: ShifterLady's Charm (Amulet)
Item Description:
This amulet is made of silver, with a blue gemstone set into the heart of a small silver pendant dangling delicately upon it. The gemstone has three facets, each of which will generate a different spell when pressed. Should the energy in the gem be expended, it will shatter, destroying the amulet. At the gemstone's center, overlacing each of the three facets, is the holy symbol of Tymora.
A popular item distributed among adventurers, clergy, and petitioners of the Tymoran church, these charms originated in Arabel during the Time of Troubles. Items of much sentimental value but little real power, the goddess Tymora handed out many of these from her throne in the Lady's House to those who sought audience with her. As a relic of darker times and an item of hope for lighter ones, they are still highly valued to this day.
Item Properties:
Cast Spell: Bless (2) 2 Charges/Use
Cast Spell: Divine Favor (5) 3 Charges/Use
Cast Spell: Sanctuary (2) 2 Charges/Use
Saving Throw Bonus: Universal +1 -
Tyrant's Gaze (Helm)
Item Description:
This helmet, forged from metal nearly pitch-black and cool to the touch, presents a forbidding appearance upon first glance. Rimmed with crimson, the most obvious feature of the helmet are the two lenses mounted over the eyes; when looked at obliquely, they appear merely dark pits, but when looked directly into, they appear as an infinite black abyss. Inscribed on the forehead of the helmet is the symbol of Bane.
The helmet itself belonged to a lesser priest of Bane, Yarzal Tiriav, who served Bane faithfully for much of his life as an acolyte within the walls of Zhentil Keep. When Torm destroyed Bane during the Time of Troubles and Iyachtu Xvim and Cyric assumed the Black Tyrant's portfolio, Tiriav refused to swear allegiance to Xvim or Cyric, instead abandoning Zhentil Keep and going into deep seclusion within the desolate Northern Lands.
When Bane sprang forth from Xvim's husk and reclaimed his place as the lord of strife and tyranny, Tiriav made the journey back to Zhentil Keep and reassumed his place as one of the Dark Lord's clergy. His unswerving loyalty to Bane and his refusal to submit to any other deity led him to privileged command within the ranks of the Zhentarim, and it was rumored that Bane himself blessed Tiriav's helm to instill a small portion of the fear and respect that would arise from the gaze of the true Tyrant.
During the Zhentarim campaign against the Moonsea territories and Northern Cormyr, Tiriav served as a commander for various elite Zhentarim units, inspiring terror and demanding respect and obedience from scattered villages conquered by the marauding armies. When the Zhentarim armies invaded Cormyr, Tiriav was at the forefront of the battle, where he fought the Purple Dragons fiercely at Castle Crag. His faith and devotion to Bane, however, were no match for the skill of Lord Lady Myrmeen Lhal, who defeated Tiriav in single combat when he attempted to capture her.
As the Zhentarim closed in upon the fortress, a squad of Purple Dragons fleeing from the invaders saw the broken, barely living priest. Tiriav turned his gaze upon them, and they were instilled with the fear of the Tyrant for the final time. The Dragons fled, three of them falling to Zhentarim soldiers, while the fourth, who resisted the fear for a brief instant, grabbed onto Tiriav and threw him through a hole in the Castle's wall. Tiriav grasped onto the Dragon, and they fell together to their deaths, the Tyrant's favored instrument causing strife and death even as he himself embraced it. The helmet was left in the domain of Cormyr when the Zhentarim retreated back to their Keep, a last echo of Tiriav's mission in the Realms.
Item Properties:
Ability Bonus: Charisma +2
Cast Spell: Fear (5) 1 Use/Day
Darkvision
Skill Bonus: Bluff +2
Skill Bonus: Intimidate +4
Skill Bonus: Persuade +2
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Evil
Use Limitation: Class: Blackguard
Use Limitation: Class: Cleric
Use Limitation: Class: MonkTalona's Touch (Gauntlets)
Item Description:
These tattered, ragged gloves teem with small, greenish insects constantly swarming across them. The gloves themselves provide protection from the insect's effect, but the insects can be called to swarm at an opponent and tear away at it from the inside. The symbol of Talona inscribed along the palm of each glove is the only completely whole part of the glove.
The gauntlets were the property of a minor Talonan priest in the service of the Zhentarim. An interrogation expert, he would often delight by torturing prisoners for days by sending the insects crawling along them and infesting their already ravaged bodies.
Assigned to the Talonan Kauric Retch during his campaign to bring plague to the Moonsea, he delighted in spreading misfortune among the Moonsea villages, often torturing victims inflicted with the Moonsea plague to heighten their suffering. When a band of adventurers penetrated the Zhentarim lines and killed Kauric Retch, the priest was killed when the sick villagers he had been torturing were cured of their ills and hunted him down, ripping the gloves off him and sending the insects against him to devour his body. He died seven days later, a mere shred of the man he once was, and the gauntlets were disposed of as Talonan filth.
Item Properties:
Cast Spell: Infestation of Maggots (5) 1 Use/Day
Cast Spell: Inflict Light Wounds (5) 3 Uses/Day
Decreased Skill Modifier: Heal -5
Immunity: Damage Type: Acid 10% Immunity Bonus
Saving Throw Bonus: Acid +3
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Evil -
- Panoply of the Bitch Queen -
Some leagues south of the raucous port of Telflamm, slanting out upon a weary cornice of storm-worn stone above the wash of the Great Inner Sea. There abides an altogether humble shrine to the Goddess of Angry Waters, Umberlee.
Which, for unaccounted seasons has, from its sea-smoothed, plain wind-worn portals, ministered to an unremarkable hamlet of sailors and fishwives, hoveled in the quiet clemency of a nearby cove.
Long before it ever acquired the curious epithet of The Cloister of Saint Pyna the Mum, it had borne well a tradition of selecting and instructing certain spirited and often troublesome youth from not only its unassuming nearby native village, but also on occasion from an outlying ranch or farmhouse. Thus serving the almost unlikely two fold purpose of reinvigorating the clergy and bringing peace through piety, to many generations of common toiling folk, by bearing away to catechism and servitude, the occasionally unquiet and roiling souls of their sons and daughters.Many long seasons before the Time of Troubles, in the languid summer twilight when the surf stretched as long as the evening shadows, a young acolyte descended from the shrine along a venerable path that maundered down the crags and cracking rookeries to the waters, to gather marsh herbs and to bathe.
As twilight purple deepened and the moon rose, she plucked herself refreshed from the sea and ascended the sands to the stone where rested her light burden of herblets and folded linens.
It was here as she dressed, that the corsairs came.
From a dark, stony fold in the cliff-face, they had for a time watched her smooth strokes lapping the waves as she swam and thought her a pretty prize.
Swiftly and with cruel intent they swept her up and ere she was able to make the most meagre outcry, the foremost murderous among the band, a "Mikra the Earless"; barbarous old abomination with weary eyes and a viciousness sticky as drying tar.
With a tapered stiletto, long stained from unwholesome use, took her tongue, and carelessly cast the bloody, unhomed organ into the surf…"Ah. Old Mikra. He likes his skins silent. He cannot hear, you will not speak…" Spat an addled voice into her ear.
And for awhile, Pyna heard no more.It may well have been years. All count of hours was lost.
As she silently suffered their unkind ministrations in the broad, link-lit womb of the coursing sea-craft.
Somewhere in these insufferable intervals they wearied of her and when the Watch cried on of a merchant mast cresting the horizon, they drew her above into the aching day and without a whisper, cast her bruised anatomy like so much flotsam; a swath of rag, into the swaying sea.The brine drank her in.
Supped her up and swallowed her down, a poor ragged mortal morsal in the throat of some green leviathan.
Her weakened limbs grew ever more senseless. She became an anchor of sinew. The weight of her bones drew her unmitigated into the deeps of a watery, lightless peace.
And when all breath became a strange memory and her lungs had at last brimmed over with the primal, wet lifestuff of all deep dwelling creatures; her ceaseless, soundless prayers stretched thin…
From the abyss there bloomed a luminous cloud of jellyfish. Soft, translucent fire cutting waters black as bitumen.
They pulled as a single beast at her lifeless, plum-bruised appendages and opened to envelope her bare shape; flowing and enfolding with the sensual knowing of an old lover. Filling her lungs with a preternatural air.The survivors from a particular merchant caravel would spread, for many years, a singular tale amongst the tavern dwellers of ports up and down the coast of Thesk.
That of a hapless pirate craft that had, through some careless, foolish malfeasance, invoked the wrath of the very Bitch Queen herself. Who had strode from the foaming maelstrom, naked and terrible, to throw a great rancorous wave upon the craft of astounded corsairs, crushing it to splinters and swallowing them whole into the brine, screaming to a man…Many days later, the young acolyte waded wearily out of a still sea, clad only in a diaphanous, shapely garment; dragging a shapeless, fleshly fardel.
Out onto the soft sands of her cove, where was her custom to bathe and gather marsh herbs…
To the great startlement of a small convocation of her young fellow acolytes. Who had descended that evening, with candles of humble tallow, the cliffs of that self same natural cloister of sea-worn stone to offer supplication to their Terrible Mistress.
Before their wondering gazes, the young woman dropped a weighty sack of sea-born weed and tangled, white crustaceans. Some went to poke and prod, curious at the contents, then pale-masked and trembling, hastily drew away.
While one helplessly cast the contents of his belly into the waves as an unknowing offering to the horrible retribution wrought of their capricious patron.
Together they surrounded her. And leaving the unpleasant offering to be claimed by the nightly tides, she numbly allowed them to bear her up the cliffs, and strip her of her uncanny enfoldings, which were laid with great reverence in the innermost shrine.
The young acolyte was bathed with all gentleness and set almost dumbly into a soft bed, where she drifted soundlessly into deep, dreameless sleep..._Many years later, as she grew into a priestess of unrivaled puissance; an uncontested favorite of the Goddess of Angry Waters. Saint Pyna of the Deeps would recount in written memoirs of the ugly, earless corsair that had taken her speech; taken her youth.
But had died seven times over six days in an act of terrible, gurgling recompense. In the fathomless, lightless, twisted coral corridors of her revered Mistress, surrounded by Her unspeakable, slimy servitors.
And she had soundlessly laughed and laughed…Over time, these tales would take the form of hymns and parables. The speaking of Umberlee's mendicants in praise and warning of Her wrath.
And, at last, in her greying years, when her limbs began to fail her.
Saint Pyna, the Abbess of the humble little cloister upon the unassuming tract of sea, abreast the common hamlet of fishers and their wives, bade her attendant sisters and brothers leave her be, that she may bathe alone in her sandy cove, and gather some marsh herbs for the kitchen.
There she cast off her robes of office and waded out into the lapping waves and there with the evening tide, plunged forever into the lightless, eternal whisper of her Horrible Goddess._–
Panoply of the Bitch Queen.
Minor Artifact. Strong Transmutation [Evil]; CL 20th
A translucent, shapeless, amorphous close-fitting garment that shifts
in hue like water to reflect the current disposition of the wearer.
Peaceful and reflective as a sea becalmed, or black and raging as a sudden squall etc.
In this regard these enfoldings are as changeable as the oceans.It confers upon its wearer permanent Water Breathing and Freedom of Movement effects.
The user may also Water Walk as a standard action.
Once per day the user may cast Control Water and Mass Drown (see Magic of Fearun and Underdark supplements) at the level of the artifact (20th).
The garment also allows the wearer access to spells and powers from the Watery Death Prestige Domain (see Underdark supplement) as a free third domain as long as the garment is donned, per normal rules governing clerical domains.
The garment is only useable by clerics of Umberlee of any requisite alignment.
Should any other creature not of the faith attempt to don the garment, they will immediately be subject to a Drown effect at the artifacts's level (20th). Fortitude save allowed. No external heal checks allowed.
Should the creature be immune to drowning, or succeed at its fortitude save, the garment will simply refuse to adhere; collapsing and slipping like a mass of jelly from the would-be users body.Currently, the artifact is known, by a very particular number of high level members of the clergy of Umberlee, to still reside in The Cloister of Saint Pyna the Mum, where it has resided for a number of centuries.
Although the occasional thief has, naturally, been comissioned by various entities to acquire the artifact, none of these attempts thus far, appear to have been successful.
–Yes, this is a minor artifact more keyed to a PnP campaign, but I suppose with a little tender tweaking it could be brought into NWN.
I simply haven't had the opportunity to write a great deal of late, so I thought I'd get my creativity in this sphere, flowing again. And of course, it's good to share.
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Bull Axe (Dwarven Waraxe)
Item Description:
Forged from enchanted mithral, this dwarven axe is light and quick to the cut. An engraved bull charging is inset against a dwarven rune, and the wielder finds both the ability to strike powerful blows and shock his opponents to the ground.
The axe belonged to a proud Dwarven Defender who left his clan's home within the Thunderpeaks to adventure among the human lands. He arrived in Cormyr, and earned a reputation for his ferocious style of battle and his ability to take swarms of opponents at a time.
The dwarf eventually made his way to the city of Arabel, where he tested himself almost daily against orc raiders from the Hullack, inspiring such awe in them that orc bands would often run in terror from him on the field of battle.
When the City of Arabel was invaded by orc armies in 1371 D.R., the dwarf planted himself outside the Eastern Gates of the city, refusing to move as the orc army advanced on the city. As the first wave of orcs stormed the gates, the Dwarven Defender stood his ground, slaughtering dozens as they attempted to pass him. As his strength ebbed and his death looned near, the dwarf finally left his defensive position, charging at the orc's with reckless abandon, dropping his opponents to the ground as a hundred arrows pieced his armor and he finally ground to a halt within spitting distance of the orcish leader.
The axe was trampled under the hooves of the orcish forces as they surged through the city, and was subsequently lost. Numerous dwarves have attempted to recover it, but none have been able to find it.
Item Properties:
Ability Bonus: Strength +1
Base Item Weight Reduction 80% of Weight
Cast Spell: Balagarn's Iron Horn (7) 1 Use/Day
Enhancement Bonus +1
Use Limitation: Class: Barbarian
Use Limitation: Class: Dwarven Defender
Use Limitation: Class: Fighter
Use Limitation: Class: Paladin
Use Limitation: Racial Type: DwarfCheckmate (Longsword)
Item Description:
This sword is ornately crafted, the blade itself solid and sharp, and the hilt and pommel heavily gilded with gold. On the crossguard is a small chessboard, and pictured is a king one move away from checkmate by his opponent's queen, castle, and king. A small gem inscribed with the symbol of the Red Knight rests in the pommel, and the wielder may enhance the ability of his comrades to fight by shifting the pieces so that the king is placed in checkmate.
The blade was crafted by a noble in Suzail of the Huntsilver line for his son, a paladin of the Red Knight, when he entered service with the Purple Dragons. The blade quickly made him the envy of his fellow recruits, and the light enchantment his father had placed on the blade enhanced his already gifted tactical abilities, leading him to command rank sooner than was normal.
After attaining the rank of Lancelord, the young paladin was sent to the Arabellian Purple Dragon Garrison in 1370 D.R. His tactical abilities made him one of the more valued members of the garrison, and the following year, he led the retreating Dragons from Arabel when orcs stormed the city. His masterful battle prowess saved his unit from destruction as it fled the orc hordes.
In subsequent battles, he acquitted himself well, always demonstrating superb command ability. His end finally came when he was caught by orcs without his unit, his command ability doing him no good without soldiers to command. He aquitted himself well in personal combat, but he was eventually felled, and his blade disappeared along with his other possessions as the orcs looted his body and continued on with their campaign.
It is rumored that his father may still offer a high price for the blade, but there are a few who would relinquish such a weapon were it found.
Item Properties:
Ability Bonus: Intelligence +2
Cast Spell: Battletide (9) 1 Use/Day
Enhancement Bonus +1
Skill Bonus: Concentration +3
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Good
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Neutral
Use Limitation: Class: Champion of Torm
Use Limitation: Class: Cleric
Use Limitation: Class: Fighter
Use Limitation: Class: Paladin
Use Limitation: Class: Ranger -
Curse of Thay
Katana
Cursed
Strength +2.
No combat damage
attack bonus +2
Damage vunerbility fire: 100%
On hit: cast spell fireball
decreased reflex save: -3
Visualeffect: Fire
Only usuable by: fighter, evilThe sword was created by an old human smith and former harper. It has been created with alot of care, and was the prime work of the smith. He had set up a store in Suzail after over 40 years of succes in the ranks of the harpers, mostly involved in missions against the foul Red wizards.
As the Thayan senior magus in the embassy of Thay learned of the harpers Identity he sent his best assasins for the smith. The store was burned down and the sword taken back as evidence. To tuant his hatefull enemies who harp, he gave the sword to his knight.
A gnomen enchanter and harper saw the blade, and snuck in late at night to the embassy and stole the sword. He took it to his house, and with the aid of alot of high wizards, created the curse on the blade. He then snuck in and placed the sword back to in the hands of the knight. Both the knight and the magus where killed as they took on a village to turn them into slaves. Only ashes and the blade remained when the knight first swung the sword.
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The Sands of Time.
[A simple timeglass]
This curious, seemingly indestructable artifact can be traced as far back as can be traced. It seems to in harmony with time itself, which is likely why it cannot be destroyed. Whoever posseses the artifact gains a limited mastery over time itself, allowing them to freeze time to a halt. The artifact has been known for it's unrealiability, though, causing in many a foolhardy possessor to meet their doom when all depended on it. It has seen countless possessors, it has been lost, and recovered, and lost again, some speculate, since the dawn of time, itself.
Unlimited charges: The sundial script. (You always know what time it is)
1 Use/1d1000 days: Time Stop (You said within the game mechanics, I don't actually know if it could be scripted or not, but the idea is there, the major flaw in such a powerful item is that you never know if it is ready again, or not. It could be substituted with a simple die roll every time you try to use it, and if you choose the latter option, it's really not anymore complex than one minute, a script generator, and snappin' your fingers). -
Ideas for Rum-Tum's store!
Gnomish Go-Go Boots
"Flaming red, gnome sized boots with runes in the shape of flames and fire inscribed in the sole and heel. This particular pair belonged to Gelburan Fastfeet, who was found buried head first in the stone wall of his laboratory after his most recent experimental boots speed him at such tremendous speed that his thick head cracked right through the masonry. This set, somewhat more stable, can be activated by shouting out "go-go!" and will zoom the wearer off in a quick burst of tremendous speed."
Expeditious Retreat 2/day
Gnome OnlyGnomish Ear Trumpet
"The skilled wizard Fidellious Alluicious, sick and tired of his young nephew-apprentice's muttering and mumbling and hoarse from constantly having to shout at him to 'Speak up, sonny!' constructed this elaborate and complex ear trumpet. The horn is made of the finest materials, and is quite impressive in its construction, but the ear-piece does seem to have some residual gnome wizard ear-wax stuck about the edges. If one doesn't mind the ear-wax, the horn also has the ability to temporarily magically enhance the user's hearing."
Amplify 1/day
Ear Wax Paste
"Having shown you the Gnomish Ear Trumpet, RumTum proudly presents a very special concoction he makes using a combination of ear-wax scraped from the Trumpet, caterpillar juice, and troll feces as a binding agent. The paste smells terrible, but when smeared on weaponry does temporarily enhance the weapon to both deafen and damage the enemy the weapon is used upon."
1 Charge/Use
Deafening ClangGnomish Repeating Crossbow
Heavy Crossbow"An elaborate and cumbersome crossbow designed for those of smaller stature. A strange system of extra string and cranks allow the skilled user to fire off bolts more rapidly, while an elaborate system of mirrors and scopes grant greater accuracy. The whole affair, however, is so cumbersome and bulky that most archers find it far too impractical for general use."
Extra Feat: Rapid Reload
+1 AB
-2 Dexterity
Gnome, Halfling OnlyThe Songs of Asmodeus Von Geut
((Text only, source: /topic/24
The Songs of Asmodeous Von Geut, Collector's Edition
((Text of the Songs))
Tasha's Hideous Laughter, 1/day
Gnomish Wrestling Whistle
"Unwilling to pay a bridge troll's toll, young Rondo Gluttergem instead challenged the troll to a wrestling match for the right of passage. Laughing uproariously, the troll accepted, and was sent flat on its back after the young gnome smugly blew his special whistle. Rondo declared victory, but the troll disagreed, and ended up breaking every bone in the gnome's body. Eventually this whistle found its way back to gnome hands when the ignorant troll blew himself right off the bridge he guarded."
Balagarn's Iron Horn 1/day
Turnip Vodka
This heady and dangerous clear liquid is used alternatively to clean corrosive rust away from sensitive gnomish equipment, and to get well and truly intoxicated.
Badoc's Arm
"This elaborate, mechanical arm is modeled off the arm of Badoc Glittereyes, a clever gnomish thief of some renown. Badoc was charged by the Church of Baravar Cloakshadow with the theft of some artifact called the "Eye of Nogra" from the clutches of some deadly wizard and his cult. Although more experienced than his halfling competitors at picking locks. poor Badoc was clumsy as a goat and was caught by the dastardly cultists when he tried to sneak into their treasure chamber. The Wizard severed his arm in punishment, animated it, and sent it hungrily crawling and scrambling after him as he fled their lair.
Fleeing in terror, Badoc made it back to his village, and a plucky young gnomish engineer-maid constructed an enchanted magical arm to replace what he lost."
Knock 1/day
Anti-Troll Wand
"Once upon a time, a very fat and hungry kobold sorceror decided that he would make himself a fine pot of Troll Soup. He constructed this wand to battle one, and headed out into the swamp to find himself a nice fat troll to add to his stew. The wand served him well in killing a young troll, and he hacked off the troll's foot to add to his stew. He cooked it up, and added his best herbs and seasonings, and found it a very delectable meal. Unfortunately, later that night the troll's flesh knitted back together in his stomach and burst through the sleeping kobold's stomach to eventually form a whole new and very angry troll. For months later the kobold tribes whispered of a vengeful troll that killed many of their kind, and could be identified by its one distinguishing trait: the very strong scent of rosemary and thyme."
Wand
Acid Splash 10/Day -
Ring of Water Breathing
Shapeshifting beings from the elemental plane of water, nereids are fabled beasts that live to trick and drown unwary sailors. Often taking the form of beautiful women, they cast a charm over men and lure them to their doom.
Tired of losing his sailors to the amorous advances of these horrid creatures during the night, Captain Namas Falrym of Luskan decided to offer a small fortune to an enchanter who could fortify his crew members with something that would save them from such a disohonourable end.
Unfortunately, he was not specific enough in his demands, and while these silver rings may have protected from certain drowning and allowed the sailors to breath underwater, they did not stop them from being enamored with the nereid's flirtatious and mischievous advances.
Namas eventually lost half his crew to the nereids, as they decided to persue their would-be captors romantically to the bitter end.
Ring
Spell Immunity: Drown
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Inferno's Ward (Magic Staff, 3's for all appearance stats.)
Item Description:
This staff is warm to the touch, licks of flame seeming to pass through the metal that comprises it, as if part of the weapon was still immersed in the forge that created it. The head burns with twin tendrils of flame, and is shaped into the visage of a Balor Demon, born from the depths of fire. Inscribed along the length of the staff are the words: "The Depths of Darkness and the Intensities of Light both bear witness to the power of the Flame. Let both tremble before its might."
The staff itself was created two hundred years ago by an isolated recluse within the Cormanthyrian Wood. An acolyte of Kossuth, the wizard made several trips to the ruins of Myth Drannor, where he witnessed much of the destruction that had occurred in the heart of the once-great elven city.
Seeing the depths of darkness there, he began a quest to create tools by which he could obliterate the entirety of the metropolis, destroying the ruins and the entities contained within. This quest led him to the creation of several staves and artifacts styled after some of the more powerful creatures of the Abyss and Hells.
Inferno's Ward was one of his first creations, and still bears the traces of power that forged it, though its usage at the hands of the wizard have sapped some of its power over the years. It was used to some success against the host of evil that possesses Myth Drannor, but the mage was utterly unskilled in dealing with the Drow he would find there.
The mage and the Drow came into conflict, and being unable to stop him by force of arms, they convinced him they were actually elven survivors of the city, their skin darkened by their exposure to flame. The mage reneged on his vow to destroy everything within the city and took pity on the Drow, inviting them into his refuge near the city. He was slain shortly thereafter in his sleep, his throat slit by Drow assassins and his body incinerated with his own creations.
The staves and artifacts were since dispensed by the Drow over a wide range, a number of them travelling from Cormanthyr to locations across the Realms. Inferno's Ward was rumored to have been taken into Cormyr, though the decline in its power over the years has not made it worthwhile enough for many treasure hunters to bother seeking it.
Item Properties:
- Cast Spell: Elemental Shield (12) 5 Charges/Use
- Cast Spell: Flame Weapon (3) 2 Charges/Use
- Cast Spell: Flare (1) 0 Charges/Use
- Cast Spell: Wall of Fire (9) 4 Charges/Use
- Damage Resistance: Fire Resist 15 / -
- Saving Throw Bonus: Fire +2
- Use Limitation: Class: Sorcerer
- Use Limitation: Class: Wizard
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Burgell's Timekeeper
Description
A stupendously complex mass of gears which can't possibly connect to one another according to the laws of physics. There appears to be a tiny clock on the contraption. It has seven arms and thirteen apparently random numbers. There is also one big red button you have trouble not to push.Rumor has it that this is this item was created by a certain Burgell Redrock, a gnomish mage, predictably quite insane, that wanted a reliable piece of machinery that could tell him what the time was when he spent a lot of time in his subterranean halls conversing with tree-roots.
The item proved to be very unreliable indeed and as soon as Burgell finished his contraption, he pushed the big red button so that the face of the clock would inform him of the time. The story has it that he suddenly thought he was a small brown kitten and is now the favourite household pet of a farming family near Suzail. This has not been confirmed as of yet.
Item Properties
Cast Confusion: Once/Day
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-Concord of Vengeance (Longsword)
Item Description:
A longsword of very obvious elven make; the blade is composed of mithral, and the hilt is of a rare ivory. The hilt is suited to fit elven hands, and the crossguard bears two tourmalines, which shield the wielder when activated. The blade hums faintly with power, and a ripple of vibrating metal can be seen at the right angle. Inscribed along the blade's edge are the words: "All who aid the vengeance of our people wield our might." The pommel bears the symbol of Shevarash.
The weapon was bestowed upon a half-elven male by the name of Lir'star who was exiled from Evereska because of his mixed heritage. His mother gifted him with this blade moments before he left the gates of the city, wielded by her original elven husband before she engaged in a brief romantic dalliance with a human which spawned Lir'star.
Lir'star traveled alone in his exile, eventually making his way to the forests of Cormanthyr, where he slew orcs, travelling alone through the woods and preying upon orc raiding bands and camps. Shevarash himself witnessed the prowess of the young warrior, and granted him the strength to prevail in his travels and in his combats against the orcs.
Fifteen years into his exile, Lir'star discovered a passage to the Underdark. Uncertain of this new realm, he nevertheless wandered into it, and after several weeks of travel, came to the edges of a Drow city. His hatred of the Dark Elves rose, and he slew a Drow scouting party, taking their armor and infiltrating the city in order to attempt to kill as many as possible. He soon realized that the entire city was on a war footing, as the Drow had discovered a passage near Everska and were making plans to invade the elven city.
Lir'star quickly fled the city, slaying several dozen Drow in his escape, and made his way to the passage, retracing his steps and returning to the elven city he had vowed he would never see again. His return nearly resulted in his death at the hands of the elven patrols, but they were willing to listen to his story, and elven patrols were sent out to confirm his rumors.
The entire city mobilized, and Lir'star was given the chance to visit with his mother again, she unchanged by time while he had grown into a strong young man. When the Drow army came, Lir'star stood at the forefront of the elven forces, slaying over a hundred Drow and commanding a section of elven troops with skill and courage.
The Drow Matron leading the assault, realizing that the Dark Elves could not overcome their surface brethren, called a retreat, and Lir'star, emboldened by thoughts of hate and vegeance, pursued after them alone, slaying the Matron before he was felled by a hundred piercing Drow arrows. His body was later recovered by the elves, though the blade was lost to the Drow, and it was given a full elven burial, his status as an elf reinstated with the blessing of the entire city.
Item Properties:
Cast Spell: Battletide (9) 1 Use/Day
Cast Spell: Shield of Faith (5) 3 Uses/Day
Damage Bonus: Sonic 1d4 Damage
Enhancement Bonus +1
Enhancement Bonus vs. Racial Group: Elf +2
Enhancement Bonus vs. Racial Group: Orc +2
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Good
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Neutral
Use Limitation: Racial Type: Elf
Use Limitation: Racial Type: Half-Elf-Night's Embrace (Spear)
Item Description:
Forged from solid adamantine and black as night, this spear features a wickedly sharp head and a curving, jagged spine. It is cool to the touch, and three gems adorn the length of the weapon. All of them are obsidian; two are warm to the touch and can ignite the weapon in flame or surround the wielder with an energy field. The third, however, is deathly cold, and will plunge the wielder into the realm of shadows, destroying the weapon. It is inscribed with the symbol of Shar, and bears an inscription along the pommel: "Night's Embrace comes to plunge the world into darkness."
Forged by adherents of Shar in the Moonsea region, Night's Embrace was originally the weapon of a high-ranking priestess who led a small cult of the Mistress of the Night in the town of Hilltop. When the villagers discovered the cult's presence, the militia was roused to root them out, and the priestess fled the village, managing to escape to Cormyr, and making her way to the city of Arabel.
With Tymora's hand staving Arabel from destruction during the Time of Troubles, the priestess turned to deception to survive in the city, attempting to curry favor among the city guard and twist them to her ends. Her progress was halted when orcs overran the city, and with her work destroyed, she fled the city with a small group of survivors.
Blocked from transiting towards the heart of Cormyr by the orc hordes, the small band attempted to evade the orcs by entering the depths of the Hullack Forest. They uncovered a small, forgotten crypt, and sought refuge in it, where the priestess discovered several tomes detailing the process of undeath.
A company of orcs managed to track the small party to the crypt, and the priestess began summoning undead to fight against them. One of those in her party, a young warrior of Mystra, realized her intent to use undeath to save herself, and confronted her. The priestess quickly began a ritual to turn herself undead, reasoning that the spear could be used to protect her from the warrior's assaults. However, in a brief melee, the warrior knocked the weapon from her hand and took it up, plunging it into her heart.
Without the undead to stave off the orcs, the refugees quickly found themself beset by the orcs and slain. The warrior, surrounded and alone, refused the use of the weapon that would have saved his life, and also acknowledged that he would rather die than be saved by undeath, and thus was chosen by Mystra as a paladin in his final moments. Fear was swept away from him, and though grief-stricken over the deaths of his party, he took up his blade, slaying the entire company of orcs in a furious battle. Stricken by grievous wounds, he collapsed upon the spear, which pierced his heart and ended his life.
To this day, the crypt is avoided by the orc tribes of the Hullack Forest, who believe it to be place of great darkness. The spear still rested within, waiting for the chance to plunge more life into darkness.
Item Properties:
Cast Spell: Darkfire (5) 1 Use/Day
Cast Spell: Death Armor (3) 1 Use/Day
Cast Spell: Shadow Shield (13) Single Use
Enhancement Bonus +1
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Evil
Use Limitation: Alignment Group: Neutral -
Vergadain's Luck (Gold Coin)
A Manifestation of Vergadain sent down to lead several lost Dwarves to safety from the Underdark. For some reason unknown to any the coin remained and was soon gathered up by a traveling Humdor (Priest of Vergadain). Whether by chance or coincidence, a good deal of luck settled itself over the Dwarf while the coin remained in his posession; more of his wares were sold for more profit, and items of value settled themselves in his posession for far less than normal. For some odd reason, this luck suddenly abandonned him when he was forced to spend every last gold coin to afford a well-made Wagon to carry all of his newfound wares.
(Ring Slot)
Appraise +10
True Strike 1/day
Identify 1/day–--------------------
Stone Walled (Boots)
When an ambush set itself upon their troupe, it came down to Thragrith Brightblade and a few of his kin to stand tall against a Duergar host to ensure the other miners might escape to safety. After seeing one of his brother's fall upon a Duergar's blade he couldn't bear to see anymore slain and so he threw himself upon the Gray Dwarves, telling his brethren to flee and calling to Moradin. Before the Duergar had a chance to cut him down, and even before his kin had a chance to ignore his order and run to death after him, his body faded from the material plane. A slab of stone erected itself where he once stood, blocking the horde from the miners and crushing all Duergar before him. It was not Moradin who answered his prayers, but Dumathoin, the Stone shifter. All that remained of Thragrith were his belongings, specifically these very boots, which refused to be cut or torn themselves, and still carried every ounce of will power and determination that Thragrith bore in refusing to let himself be pushed back by the Duergar horde.
(Feet Slot)
AC +2 (Natural)
Stoneskin 1 Charge (Level 10 Caster)
Race restriction: Dwarf