Special Items

Legendary Items

Andronichus’ Caress

Owned By: Unowned

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
Item’s Base: Ring - Which melts into a tattoo
Required Race: Elf

Of curious design, Andronichus` Caress is an intricately wrought tattoo, beginning at the left temple, tapering downward to lace the silken curve of one cheek, there ending. The tattoo’s subtle patterning consists of twin chains of small, decorative glyphs of Elvish religious cabala, intertwining in helix fashion. One chain is inked in dull, metallic silver, the other of black matte coloration; dichotomous shades, the pair, mirroring both the light and darkness within.

Powers:
Incorporeal Status

A marking kissed into flesh to swirl and adhere is blessed upon any elf, allowing them to become incorporeal or ghost like, giving them an ability to pass through walls and physical objects. This power reflects within combat, people and walls; however, this goes both ways, taking away the ability to touch solid objects while in this ghostly form. Such ability grants the wearer to lend this power to two or more that must always be in contact or touch with the user of this mark, and if they let go become solid once more losing the ability instantly.

Mechanics: The user of this marking is considered untouchable and cannot touch any solid object; yet the user is allowed to lend this power up to two others. This makes them as incorporeal as the user of this ability, but they must at all times stay within touching contact of said user or the power gained is instantly lost. OOC consent must be gained to enter someone's home or property. This can be use for shop stealing attempts with a +20% added to rolls, but once inside, the user must be corporeal in order to carry any item out. This is an OOB only ability and must be invoked before an initiative roll is made for combat.

Denying the Senses

This ability works very simply. The blessed or cursed elf, depending on how you view it can touch a target and then rob them of their senses for a limited time. The elf can decide which sense is affected out of the five, and may render a target a whimpering mass of senseless void.

Mech: The wielder is able to remove or block a single sense from their victim by simply a touch. OOC consent is required; otherwise, a clomagatk vs clomagdef may be used to force this effect upon someone. Only usable out of battle and initiation of combat breaks the effect of this ability. One sense per person per scene is allowed to be affected.

Paralyzing Gaze

This power, using but a direct look, can force someone to freeze in motion to the point they cannot move. They can see, feel, think, and even react in minor ways, however they are paralyzed from movement until an attack is taken against the victim, though movement continues to be slowed until the effect wears off fully.

Mech: Costs 10 stamina. Ranmagatk vs ranmagdef, if successful the victim is paralyzed and loses their actions for !r 1d10 rounds; however, if the victim is attacked, they may take their defense but retain a -5 to all defense rolls for the remaining rounds. The wielder may use this time to prepare multiple round spells, regain stamina, or leave combat completely. Only usable once per week. OOC Consent must be given if used OOB or unprovoked.

Darker Soul

This is the character's darker soul, the side most elf’s hide: the usually hidden, licentious, egotistical, and self serving side. The side they would not and won't show most will come out. This will bring out the devious side, the cruel side, or the sensual side few glimpse. It might even bring out the darker, more lustful for life side of their psyche. Though this will be a whole new personality, it will be "them". This new dark personality will know all they know, do, or speak.

Mech: The player is in control of a second personality within the same character. They will remember what it does, but can’t react. This second self will not care about emotions, love, or the mental states of those she holds close, however they won’t physically harm them. They won’t care what they do or how, as long as they get their licentious and self serving way. The bearer of this mark falls victim to this second personality at least once per month, but may more frequently depending on character storyline.

History:
As a deity venerated for honorable actions, for militaristic prowess and strategy, strange indeed that an insignificant Elf healer would draw the notice of such a numinous entity as Andronichus, a deity better suited for those possessing a warrior’s inclination and lust for battle. Yet, who better to cast a benevolent eye upon this, a daughter of the Elahil, to empathize with the internal struggle, the mental turmoil that plagued her. Reading that writ upon her heart, an abhorrence for fighting, and realizing that stratagems for retreating from a battle were, by extension, exemplary components of his teachings, Andronichus elected to bestow upon her his caress, a visible mark of favoritism shown to few who were mortal bound. Watched her, He had, with keen shrewdness and consideration through cosmos’ veil, through time that, for the Elahil, was naught but fluid strands of measurement unending. From time to time, teasing her with spectral trailing as she went about those plane-bound movements of day and night, a tall figure appearing, chilling in the blackness of Him, for it seemed to reflect from his cloak and the hood over his bowed head and lean hands, to shroud the entire figure in a hazy gloom despite any natural illumination. Judging, weighing, in the manner of the omnipotent, a decision in the balance. Then calling her, through dreamscape’s summoning, her consciousness infiltrated through dreaming seeming. His will inviolable in its beckoning, tugging upon her flesh as if she were of substance no more than a twig might presume, swirling along vast currents that gripped, pulled, inexorably commanded her steps. To a ghostly battleground, transported, a historical echo of the past, the Great Sundering, or was it a glimpse of the future? Not steeped in battle lore, she could not know. With limbs trembling, numbed in knowledge of her smallness before such a One, she knelt before Him, sinking, knees kissed by earth scorched, upon soil yet damp with blood’s stain, her head bowed in supplication. Though speaking not, His lips unmoving, Andronichus’ words kindled in her thoughts with such startling clarity. ~It is not always in victory won through bloodshed that you learn how strong you truly are. To vanquish one’s foe, to emerge victorious without recourse to physical weapon drawn. Is this not also an honorable path to be taken? Valor wears many faces.~ Chilling, that finger, limning her cheek with the searing cold of ice, with a series of tracings, dipping, scrolling against her skin. Then awakening, alone, grey-hued orbs bereft of vision’s surrealistic mist, a slender hand straying toward her cheek, the burning there so tentatively felt, touched with uncertain fingertips. The sensation akin to minuscule frozen crystals lancing her skin, from temple’s crest to the slope of her cheek bone, throbbing dully, such was Andronichus` Caress.

Cytherean Shackles

Owned By: Adrienna

Type of Item: Armor

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
tem Base - Twin Bracelets

Powers:
Healing Flames (4 Slots OOB)

By drawing upon the bearer's natural body heat, they can infuse it into another, using it to allow them to heal wounds and purge a body of some of the poisons and diseases that can be found in the world.

Mechs

At the cost of 1 stamina per 1 life healed, this ability can heal life to others, via a laying on of hands. Limited to 50 points of life healed upon a person per day. This ability can also be used to cure disease and poison once per day up-to class 4 poisons at a cost of 30 stamina. Can not be used in combat.

Flames Manipulative Embrace (3 Slots OOB)

The flames that bathe a Pyromancers soul are many fold, and some have more uses than mere heat and vengeance. Some are capable of wrapping around and protecting one from the effects that may sway or alter the natural behavior and tendencies of a person.

Mechs - After any rolls for the spell or abilities normal effects, the bearer of this item may expend 10 stamina and roll their resistance. If they roll over half of their normal RES score, then they reduce the effects of the effect or ability by 50%. If they manage to roll over 75% then they can actually attempt to reverse the ability upon the caster, invoking rolls as required for the spell or ability in question. This ability is only usable if the caster has won their roll to inflict a spell upon the bearer of this ability. This ability can not be used in combat and is only effective against OOB spells.

Kisses Sweet Embrace (2 slots OOB)

With a kiss of those lips to the flesh of another, and a whisper to allow the intent to be passed from kisser to kissee, to strip them of their ability to move, to prevent protests beyond the slightest whisper.

Mechs - Close Magic Attack vs Close Magic Defense. With a kiss of lips to the flesh of another, and the expenditure of 10 stamina points, then over the course of 5 minute, the recipient of this ability will find their limbs growing heavier, their voice growing softer till it almost inaudible even if they were to shout. After the 5 minute have passed, the target is unable to move their limbs, although they remain fully aware of what is happening. Lasts till end of scene. Life threatening harm (Damage Causing) will cause this ability to break instantly. OOC Consent required for anything sexual to happen as a result of this ability. Initiation of combat will also cause these effects to immediately disipate.

Flaming Portal (3 Slots OOB)

A whisper of power, a spark of flame from fingers to ignite and cut a hole through the very atmosphere of the world, that the wielder of this item, and others that they wish can travel on the wings of flame from one point to another in the blink of an eye

Mech - Costs 1 Stamina and 1 Life point per Person taken through the portal (Maximum of Seven people and/or animals). Distance limited to 5 miles of the bearers current location and has to be a place that the bearer has seen before. Not usable in combat. Requires OOC Consent for others to be taken through it.

History:
Cytherean Shackles

Helel. Tioumoutiri. Phosphorus, Shukra, Barnumbirr. Called by a dozen names in a dozen languages, and only ever answering to one. Cytherea. She is widely held to have been a Goddess, a fire elemental, a Dragon - the explanations are as varied as the names. Her story, however, remains unchanged from telling to re-telling.

She was a woman, tempestuous and capricious as the flames she favoured, and that favoured her. Given to dramatic appearances in the midst of battle, raining fiery death on her foes of the moment, and never taking the same side twice, her influence is believed to have decided more than a hundred battles, toppling Kings and quashing rebellions without discrimination.

She is better known, though, in the way of things, for her exploits -off- the battlefield. In affairs of the heart, too, she was famed far and wide for taking men, or women, on a whim. Chosen ones doomed to exhausted, passionate wakenings with flame-charred sheets, and the memory of fire. This amorous entanglement came with certain blessings, though. The chosen few, for as long they held Her favour, could be certain that Death itself held no fear for them. There are multiple accounts of those so favoured harried, pushed the very edge of death, beset by many foes, then suddenly, vanishing into a portal of flame itself, transported to safety with their wounds healed. Even those crippled by lethal toxins were miraculously restored, as if purified by the fire that embraced them.

It came with a price, however. When alone, and vulnerable, She visited her Chosen, stilled them with a kiss, and claimed what was hers. Every night, they slept in a inferno - and woe betide any that dared compete with Cytherea for the affections of her paramour. It never lasted, though. She grew bored, tired of one person or another, and would abandon them, to dream ever after of their vanished fiery lover.

For Eruan, one such abandoned man, the dreams were not enough. Rejection of any kind - even from a Goddess so famously capricious as Cytherea, was something that happened to others. Spurned, and burning with jealousy as news spread of the Goddess' new Chosen, a woman of exceeding beauty herself, he turned to desperate measures.

A mage of no small renown, he cloistered himself in a tower for nearly twoscore days, emerging only to spend vast amounts of money on mithril, and items of power - reagents for magic both dangerous and forbidden. After twenty-three days in the tower, he emerged bearing a set of jewellery.

A collar, twin bracelets, anklets, and earrings, topped by a diadem of outstanding beauty. Items that, he bragged, could bind even a Goddess. His friends grew fearful, and warned him away from this course of action - not wanting to see the great Eruan reduced to nothing but ashes. None could have predicted the lengths he would go to.

Stealing into her home in the dead of night, Eruan subdued the Goddess' new Chosen, and gave his jealousy full reign. With spell and blade, he tortured the woman to the brink of death, and when the enraged Cytherea stepped through her portal of flame - he locked the collar around her neck, and the vengeful woman of fire froze on the spot. Earrings hooked through immortal ears, bracelets and anklets locked around her limbs, then the diadem set atop her brow. With every piece of sparkling, enchanted mithril - that he gleefully announced, she'd never remove, not in a thousand years -, she grew.. less. A little more of the flame in her eyes, that glimmered in the reflections of her skin.. faded away.

With the Diadem upon her brow, Cytherea smiled for one last time, and then.. burst into flame. The house burned to the ground. In the ashes, Cytherea's final Chosen, unharmed and very much alive, and the gleaming, mithril jewellery. Eruan's remains were never discovered. The first upon the scene were unable to touch the items for many hours - and even after the flames faded, they still burn any who dare to wear them without the strength to control the flames within.

After that, there were many voices calling for the items to be locked away - but in a deft twist of fate, when the assembled folk called for them to be brought forth - they couldn't be found. Valuable, they were presumed stolen. A piece surfaces here and there, prized by collectors - legend holds, that if any single woman finds all the pieces, and wears them, then Cytherea herself may find form once again.

Until then, however, she remains a legend, lost to the ashes of time, with nothing remaining to her name but warm, shining mithril.

Deceit's Charm

Owned By: Unowned

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
Robes that take on the appearance of what their Owner wishes.

Powers:
Glimpse the Heart: By focusing on a particular person, he is able to glimpse into their emotions and see both their most cherished person/thing/place/whatever and their most feared/hated person/place/whatever. Just the two things that stoke their emotions the most. A !ranged magical attack, vs. a !ranged magical defense should dice be needed, or by OOC consent.

Shapeshifting: He is able to assume the form of any two legged humanoid creature, completely becoming that race with all their abilities and penalties. This is not illusion, but a true shapeshifting, completely becoming a different person. No creatures and nothing larger than a troll, and the robes change and adapt with him. Because of the stamina use of such a ability, it is rare that one can hold the shape for steady lengths of time without resting. For every 15 mins that one takes the form of another it costs 10 stamina, and of course, combat is not allowed while in another’s form, for casting the most simple of battle spells would cost one far to much concentration and stamina.

Silver Tongued Devil: He perpetually sounds as if he is telling the truth. The results of any spells or abilities that detect deception will reveal him to be completely honest. Only the most bald-faced lies and deceptions will be obviously detectably. "No really, I'm just a hairy albino moriel with deformed ears. Really." Should the person try to see through the verbal deceit, a simple INT vs INT roll to see if they're able to consider him capable of lying. Should the Target pass such a roll, they will be inclined to believe the Owner, but see him as capable of lying. However enough doubt can be planted with that disbelief that they will treat it as they would any other conversation. With a grain of salt.

Ultimate Deception: He is able to assume the form of 'individual' people, assuming their likeness in every way, including how they sound and how they smell. This requires him to have something of theirs in his possession, a bit of clothing, or a bit of hair or blood. OOC consent must be given for the use of this, as well as, the use of Shape shift, merely because of the nature of the play itself. Like the Necro Spell “Impending Doom” those parties who are targeted must understand the nature of play. With the built in stamina cost of Holding the Shape shifting and using Ultimate Deception, one is able at this point to attack, but not using magic, merely physical combat itself, while in the form of another, with normal stamina costs for such actions.
Detect Magic with IC reason to suspect would show the owner swarthed in magic.


History:
There are few things more enticing than the wish of being something that you are not. This is the power of Deceit's Charm.

It was crafted in a long ago age, a set of robes interwoven with a webbing of mithril threads, heavy enchantments and embued with the blood of a race long since past into memory, the mythical Dopplegangers. Theirs was a race that delighted in deception and the crafting of lies and illusions for the mere sake of that deception. They were able to change their own appearance to mimic that of others and by doing so, sow dissention and distrust amongst many nations and peoples. They grew so hated and feared that the entirety of the world in that time became engulfed in a paranoia-fueled vendetta against the whole of that race, and many magics that are used today to ferret out deceit had their beginnings in that age of fear. The Dopplegangers were hunted and destroyed to the very last clan. None remain in the world to this day, and Deceit's Charm are one of the last few remnants of their power in the world.

Crafted in pain and suffering, several of the race were destroyed to create the powerful magics that infuse these robes, granting the wearer many of their abilities, including the ability to lift thoughts and emotions from the bearer, cloak their own deceptive nature within an aura of trustworthiness and the ability to imitate individuals, the rarest and most dangerous of all their abilities. With this talent, the bearer is able to impersonate a person down to the smallest of details, including scent.

Dragonsian Body

Owned By: Tamryn Kathahles

Type of Item: Weapon

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
The Body of Dragonesis is a longsword made of an alien material infused with the spirit of a dragon and the soul of a powerful artificer. It is exquisitely crafted and appears to be black in color. There are fine etchings in the blade that seem to come out from the base where there are two sockets made to set gems within. Blood of victims can be carried along these etchings as if to feed the two Dragon hearts gems.

Powers:
Attunement to Flame:
Like the nature of the beast within. Dragons have a legendary attunement to the flames. This would grant the owner of the blade the same affinity. Making them immune to all forms of natural fire and provide a goodly bit of protection from the more potent magical flames.

Mechanics:
Like the Bisque's natural ability to deflect fire or the Pyromancer's ability to soak that fire damage , any fire elemental spell under 5 slots has no effect upon the Owner of the stone, those spells 5 slots or above, that make it through the Owner's defense, are cut by 50% of their rolled damage.

Whispers of the Elders:
Within the blade is bound to soul of the wisest brother and most powerful of the draconic mounts. One who owns it gains the ability to speak and see their will brought into action by others who they are not in combat with. To the other it will not seem as if they are acting by the will of a spell, rather the thoughts will seem to be things they decided to do of their own volition.

Mechanics:
The owner may make five single suggestions, one per round to the victim of choice. A standard Ranged Magical Attack and Defense is rolled should the victim choose to resist. The victim will carry out any command should the roll be successful as long as it does not involve the victim doing damage to themselves of a physical nature. OOC consent must me obtained for anything of a sexual nature and this ability may not be used in combat as such aggression will disrupt the whispers uttered to the other. To ensure a players comfort boundaries are preserved, there should be an OOC discussion so no extreme acts push those boundaries beyond what the victim would be comfortable with.

Elder's Eternity:
It is a question in the eyes of the items if they are owned or are the owners themselves of the chosen wielder. Boon of the very items themselves, and the beings caught within. Upon the death of their owner, they blink to a place prepared. It should be a place, underground, likely a cavern of some form, well hidden, much as a dragon would find for their lair. The body of the owner and all carried upon disappears into dust. Till the morrow the owner will dwell within the dreams of the souls within only emerge the next day whole, reformed within the sacred place, the stones calling back to them, what they consider theirs.

Mechanics:
Upon the death of the character in combat, the body and items carried upon literally disappears, seeming to fade to dust. Role play effect alone, as the stones will 'resurrect' their owner a day after the death of the character. Returning them to life with all their possessions they had upon them at time of death.

Rift of the Arcanum:
The ability of the soul trapped within, powerful master of arcane arts, is now given to one who possesses. Time and space shifted as the Owner 'teleports' to their desired place. Dangerous, as is any travel that takes place as such.

Mechanics:
Unusable within combat, the Rift of the Arcanum is a form of teleportation, taking only one round to bring about and the wielder may travel one mile per level of the owner. Should the one using the effect be attacked during the one round of time it takes to trigger this OOB ability, and the Owner takes damage, mean is unable to defend against it, the Owner automatically takes upon arrival to the new destination the -50% to their HP.
However for the normal, to see if they reach it safely, they should roll a !r100. If the results are 99 or 100 the mage will lose 50% of their current hit points reflecting a landing too high up and falling and being damaged. Spells like feather fall and the like may not be used to offset this danger as the mage is disoriented his first round on arrival and unable to cast.

History:
A long time ago, in the ancient Kingdom of Dragonesia, there lived a powerful council of mages that controlled the lands through their magical arts and their bonds to mystical dragons, not the dreams of the elders but a relative of those majestic creatures. Creatures believed to have lost the ability to slip into just dreams. They sacrificed near godhood to bond with these mortals and as such a lesser type of dragon. Dragonesia reached its Golden Age, under the rule of three siblings, An elder Mage-Lord and his two brothers, Dragan and Lorkri, who were twins. They were not identical twins and in fact where quite polar opposites. One of the twins, Dragan, followed the necromantic arts while the other, Lokri, walked the path of a powerful Water-mage and cleric of the god of serenity. The eldest brother, Chrysagon, was a powerful mage and artificer.

For many years the three siblings rose to control the council and managed to rule their lands in peace. However madness soon claimed the twin who had delved entirely too far into the darker arts of his necromantic trade and he sought to overthrow the council and his two siblings. Dragan was bonded to an ancient dragon as dark as the very depths of the abyss; Lokri was bonded to dragon as pure and white as the winter's falling. Crysagon was bound to a dragon of the most pure mithril sheen. Dragan's madness soon grew too large to contain and the brothers were all brought into conflict, Chrysagon and Lorkri working to stop the mad bid for power of their brother, Dragan.

When the brothers went to war with Dragan, the kingdom was nearly torn apart. Dragan had sought out allies from the darker races and it had become a full on war. In the final confrontation, Dragan and Lokri met in a battle over the heart of the city. They both unleashed powerful magics of fire and ice and death. A mile area of the city was obliterated as the confrontation closed, leaving both brothers dead as well as their dragons they had ridden. Chrysagon lamented the loss of his brothers and calling upon all his skills in the magical arts he began the crafting of a weapon, a memorial to his brothers and something useful to help keep peace under a single ruler of his kingdom, both in symbol and in power. He created a magical blade. To serve as a source of power he pulled the heart from each of the dead dragons as well as a bit of magical essence of both of his brother's souls, the both used to balance each other. Their souls and the dragon's hearts were condensed to two very powerful gems made to fasten into the area near the hilt of the blade. For years the sword stood as a symbol of the powerful kingdom but eventually Chrysagon passed, his last act to plunge the blade into the heart of his own dragon, its essence drawn into the blade, his won soul leaving his body to merge forever inside blade with the other.

After his death the blade was passed to a much less competent heir. The line falters and never reached its glory and eventually the kingdom fell into hands of another, the blade passing down through a family tree till eventually it was held by a minor noble in the kingdom of Elacia, named Donnel Kathahles, one of the last heirs of a long dead kingdom. By then the gems had been lost from the blade and it seemed no more than an oddly etched longsword, dark and odd, and a bit dull in truth, though marked by etchings along its length. On his passing the blade was claimed by his son Tamryn, who only knew it as his father did, an odd family heirloom. The gems had passed from hand to hand owned or possessing those they wished to use till they might find their way back to the blade, a goal always present to the near conscious gems. For the blade's abilities and true power of them all would not awake without their proximity. The brother's souls within and those of their dragons, needing to be reunited.

Embodiment of Flame

Owned By: Kir Trelander

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 1

Description:
A simple gem in most ways, it is of rounded stone, glimmering with the typical reds and blues of others of its type. However, when under firelight and bared to the world, those colors coalesce into the very poignant shape of a mallus, as if all the hues shift inwards to that shape and leave the rest of the stone in its normal, clear white color. The stone sits squarely between Kir's shoulder blades, and appears to be affixed and fused to one of the processes of the spine in his thoracic vertebra, with less than an inch diameter visible peeking out from where it's embedded in the skin.

Powers:
Playing with Fire (2 slots COMBAT)
For most it is learned that you have to treat flames with a certain level of respect, for carelessness leads to a burn. Kir embodies this in combat, where burns can appear on those who cause him damage.

Mechanics: For every five points of damage, one point of damage is returned back to the one inflicting them. i.e. an attack deals 40 hp of damage to Kir, he would deal 8 hp of damage back. Takes one round to activate it, costing 5 stamina, then lasts for 1d10 rounds after activation. Cannot stack with similar effects.

I am fire (2 slots OOB)
The wearer of this gem becomes one with fire in way’s that most could not dream except for the most skilled in Pyromancy. The gem protects Kir from fire and consumes his visage with illusory fire when angry, letting their rage and passion pour out as flames from within. While the fire appears to burn and consume, they do not cause damage and have no actual impact on combat.

Mechanics: This counts as a powerful permanent warmth spell but it extends out to 2 feet around him. This leaves him nearly oblivious to natural cold, but he is entirely susceptible to magical cold and cold-based attacks. Causes rising levels of illusory fire around and on his head when enraged. OOB only and not usable in combat.

Flame wills it (3 slots OOB)
The Owner of the gem is one with fire, but also can shape and control it. Flames are 'drawn' to him in proximity, though they will not spread as a result of his presence, and with conscious willpower, he can mold that affinity into action. Magical flame does not follow this behavior. Not usable in combat.

Mechanics: The owner of this item is immune to non magical fire created through normal means, and is also able to control and shape fire into objects and items that he wishes. These items can last for up to six hours for simple items (smaller than 6 foot by 6 foot). Anything larger than this, up to double it size will only last for three hours at most. The owner of this item can control the heat of the items, and control as to whether they will burn anyone in touch with them. This ability costs 5 stamina per item created, which will not be regained whilst the item is in existence. OOB only and not usable in combat.

Living Pyre (5 slots OOB)
As Kir was healed in fire once by the God, he can be healed through flame again. He has come to the understanding through experience that just as flames destroy, they also create. As they burn, they also cleanse. As they hurt, they also heal.

Mechanics:
While laying in fire, Kir regains 20% health an hour, even if a healers care should be needed. The fire can also burn poison and disease from the Paladin. Each hour a poison or disease has 1 cure level removed from him. Poisons and diseases must be removed first before health regeneration happens. Any disturbance that breaks his contact with fire or causes non-affliction based damage/effect while in this state resets the last hour timer. This is a painful experience and not a peaceful one, akin to actual fire flowing through his veins.

History:
Kir Trelander was a promising young Knight when he began gaining the attention of the Fire God of Valencia, the deity that was just becoming roused into wakefulness after a long slumber beneath the earth. Kir was easily influenced by his fires within, yet disciplined himself to contain them and unleash them all at once, whether in lust, fury, jealousy, or ambition, much like a fire contained within a hearth. Fire and Earth, combined into a strong man with no faith. So the God watched. He observed as Kir's story evolved, as he became protector for some and destroyer for others, and he gloated when Kir's early victories came under the influence of outright fury that overtook all of his logic and restraint. When Kir unleashed himself, he fared better in battle. It was when Kir unleashed this part of him, when he became untempered and pure once again, against an undead sithian of monstrous size that was sent to kill one of his lovers, that the God moved in, for this was not a battle that the Knight could win. He did not grant him victory; Kir was cut to ribbons, sliced nearly in twain, bleeding from a dozen wounds, yet he did not drag himself to the Healer's House. He did not find a healer within the Inn that was closer. Kir pulled himself, crawled, and left a thick blood trail to the Temple of Nanthalion, and Uvelcra watched as Kir's gaze moved from one God's statue to the next, inwardly pleading through pain and blood loss to light his path. Kir found no answer. None at all. There was no shining beacon of light upon him, as he dragged himself into the emptiest of alcoves to die alone, forsaken, and defeated. Seconds, moments, or an eternity later as he clung to the vestiges of life, fire filled the periphery of his vision, as if the Temple itself were burning down. The immense Knight erupted into screams of pain as his body was engulfed by fire, as it licked him with painful lashes of what he knew only as destruction. But as he felt so close to burning to ash itself, there was a different warmth that rose within, flicking out in waves along his form that despite the heat of fire, felt intrinsically different. Slowly, the pain died, and only this warmth remained, soothing his screams down to a peace, as he felt the very transition that was felt in every wildfire, every fireplace, every fire-ravaged forest; destruction through fire brought rebirth and healing and renewal. That day, the Knight had crawled defeated into the arms of the Gods, and that day, the Paladin rose from ashes in victory. The God had a smirk as he watched it, this new servant who had a strange kinship with his fire and earth, and when the Paladin's body was mended, that seed of fire was planted within his very bones. A gift. One that would grow as this mortal did, gaining power as this mortal embraced the fire more fully. The fire opal that was so barely visible in years past became more and more prominent until now, when it burst into life, nurtured by the fires of Kir Trelander, the mortal vessel of its power.

Kelden d'lil Xukuth's Aster (Bracers of the Heart's Truth)

Owned By: Sutara

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
Two cuffs made for the daughters of the S'orn Household, both of an intricately fused mithril and obsidian colored metal. One holds delicate scroll work of high elven design, with a cool blue sapphire held center within a clearly depicted eye. The other of equally enviable elven work, but depicting the darker runes of the Moriel lineage, a blood red ruby held center in a matching eye. Both cuffs are made to fit easily into or onto gauntlets or bracers, to create a seamless design. When in effect, each twin will bear the cuffed bracelet of their particular visual heritage, marking them as one half of a whole.

Powers:
Blood Duality (2 slots COMBAT)

When this ability is used, the wielder is split into two separate beings. One as dark as her Moriel blood, while the other mirrors her high elf Duality. The light and dark twins move independently of one another, able to circle around their prey, and even speak independently, as the shared consciousness of the two separate beings is able to transfer back and forth between the twins. While this is enacted, either twin could speak, move, or even cast spells. With the fluidity of consciousness between the two forms, simply reacting to the twin currently attacking gives no guarantee that the right one has been targeted.

Mechanics: This spell takes a combat round to cast and costs the wielder 5 stamina to enact. At the time of the split, one of the twins is real, and the other is merely an illusion, though which twin remains in a constant state of flux. When their opponent lands a successful attack, they must roll a 1d2, with the roll of a 1 the hit is taken by the illusion, destroying it and causing no damage to the whole, and with a roll of 2 they hit and cause damage to the real twin, though the illusion remains. Note that this spell does NOT allow the caster to make two attacks in one round. This Ability lasts 15 rounds. Any damage based Aoe that is cast automatically cancels this ability. Blood Duality can only be cast once per combat.

Shared Blood (3 slots OOB)

Upon creation, one twin is whole, while the secondary twin is a mere illusion. With this spell, the primary twin is able to share her mind and reality with the secondary, in essence, making her a real creature with its own thoughts, desires, and appetites, yet sharing every sensation, every emotion, every orgasm, mirroring the fact that they are one consciousness split into two bodies.

Mechanics: To activate it costs the user 10 stamina; when used, this spell allows the secondary twin to become as whole and corporeal as the primary. So long as both twins are near one another, the secondary twin will remain as real and touchable as the primary, able to touch and be touched. The twins each have their own mind and thoughts, but sharing sensations and emotions, able to feel what the other feels making any situation in which both halves are involved more intense for either. However, this only lasts so long as both twins are within eye shot of each other and up to a full day, if one tries to go too far from the other they will fade and the two will become one once more. This spell cannot be used in battle. Should combat be initiated when this spell is active, the twins form back into one in the location of which twin was initiated first.

Blood Independence (4 slots OOB)

A being created of two strong, and arrogant, bloodlines knows the call of intent and power. As one, these bloodlines have created a being practiced in getting exactly what she wants, and separated that duality is pronounced and focused. Each side becomes a whole being with her own ideals and values, this spell cuts the tie that binds them so closely to their alter-ego during battle, allowing them to go about their business without being tied to their ‘other’.

Mechanics: When this ability is used, it allows the two separate beings created by Blood Duality to move completely independent of one another. This allows them to move great distances away from one another without losing cohesion or disappearing. If the twins go beyond 15 miles apart, the ability ends. In effect, this allows the wielder to be in two places at once, though neither of the separated whole looks exactly like the original, in order for this spell to be cast, both Blood Duality and Shared Blood must be in effect. While this is effect, neither twin may engage in battle or the spell ends immediately. This ability costs fifteen stamina to activate, and cannot be regained until the ability is canceled; in addition this ability can be used up to a full day while in effect. Should combat be initiated when this ability is active, the twins for back into the location of the combat.

She is Me (3 slots OOB)

Regardless of which twin you face, or how far apart from one another they are, both twins have equal access to OOB spells known by the original, as well as access to OOB abilities on Special Items, and either twin can cast any of these at will. However, this can only be used if the twin is corporeal.

Mechanics: With both Blood Duality and Shared Blood in effect, both twins are corporeal and able to use OOB spells at will, however, as with the rules of Blood Independence, this cannot be used to initiate combat, or in combat. Only OOB spells and OOB abilities from special items are usable. If combat is initiated, this ability automatically ends.

History:


The House of S'Orn, one of the oldest families in the second city of Zon-Kith Serra - they were forged from the bloodlines of Irristae when the First and Second Cities had come into existence. In the last few generations, a daughter of the House, Ellir`Na Sor`n rose to the standards of Hand of the Matron of the city. The second in command, in line for her own position as Matron of the lesser House of Emboitant, Ellir committed the one sin that no Moriel daughter can come back from - she had a love affair with a captured High elf and bore a daughter of the union.

Despite the 'bad' blood, her progeny was still the daughter of a proud bloodline, and Ellir hoped to instill that pride in her, hoped to reconcile the duality of her birth rite so that she would continue in the Legacy set down. So in the tradition of her mother before her, she commissioned a gift for her daughter for when she would come of age. This gift would be infused with abilities that would allow her greater ease to keep tabs on her enemies, to keep her attention on the prize before her, even when her duties split her in two different directions. Even as she herself began to take the reigns of her own power base, she was planning what her daughter would be handed down.

Perhaps Ellir was arrogant, or blind, but her enemies saw her moving up through the ranks quickly, saw how her half-breed daughter was treated as if on equal footing as the full blooded daughters. Ellir's daughter was even bound for Temple work, to be one of the sacred Priestesses that held an almost sovereignty over the city Matrons. So on the eve of the Winter Solstice, the one, the only individual to whom Ellir bent knee to - sold her daughter to the services of a Sorcerer of Emboitant.

Ellir caught wind of this betrayal, spiriting her daughter to the surface where her father waited. In the aftermath, she had to go on as if her first born never existed - at least on the surface - bearing two more daughters of full blood and moving to take her place as Matron of House Emboitant. However, her enemies still watched, still constructed her downfall, so in the eaves of her rule, she took the gift to her firstborn and made adjustments. So that her daughter could both purge herself of her duality if she so wanted, but also to embrace each side as the gift it was.

Ellir was murdered in the second decade of her rule, but her gifts were secreted away to the surface, in the hopes that her daughter - now fully into her own, would recognize, and choose to use those gifts. For vengeance, or to propagate her own power, was left to the cards of destiny

Kirva's Vress'lven (Kirva's Claws)

Owned By: Twerlinger

Type of Item: Weapon

Equipment Slots Used: 1

Description:
At rest
When not in use Kirva's Vress'lven resembles simple finger claws, mithril clawed finger tips, sheath of which run down to the knuckle of the wearer. Not sharp enough to hurt or damage without a reasonable amount of force, they would at best scratch and furrow skin if used in this way. There are no adornments, no markings upon the claws in this state, simply nondescript, almost as if hiding their true form. The only
change of state that can occur when not fighting, is the length of the claws, they feed off of the wearers emotions, the more violent, darker the emotion, the longer and sharper they would become.

In combat
When used in combat, the claws lengthen to wickedly sharp points, serrated edges forming along both sides of the claw, to allow for use in almost any form. A linking piece forms down the back of hand, to either clutch at any armour either worn on the hand or lower arm, or to form a cuff of sorts to anchor the claws in place. No hand-guard unlike other claws, allowing for its possessor to cast spells without having to let go of the item and lose the potential of it in combat.

Powers:
Ssiggrins de'xet (Thoughts of Discord) (4 Slots)

Those unwilling to follow orders were oft tied and beaten to encourage them to follow the whims of their betters, till one enterprising worshipper of Kirva came up with a twist on a magickal technique already in place. Taking one spell and reworking it to allow for a broader application, the worshipper offer up his soul to the goddess to imbue her item with his creation, in the hope that it would spread her word further and further into the world, in the form of obsessions implanted within a person's mind and body

Mechs - Costs 10 stamina. After forming the required notion in the wielders mind, they push it towards their intended victim's mind, melding it into the victim's natural thoughts to allow it to flourish. Once in place, the victim's thoughts are magically altered to focus upon that notion implanted into their mind, be it sexual or non-sexual. For 1d7 day's they will find that thought the only thing they can dwell upon and act upon, although this ability can be used once again to remove such compulsion upon the victim. This ability requires a lengthy PM session with the victim to ensure that no boundaries are crossed. The range of this ability is limited only by the imagination and desires of the players. OOC consent required. Not usable in combat

Murrpau's Vress'lven (Feline's Claws) (2 Slots - Combat)

Most mages were only able to utilise some of the more exotic spells at the expense of getting up close and personal to their target. This ability was designed to allow them to better use their innate talents, allowing them to turn their magic into physical wounds, clawing and scratching at their opponents from afar, and ultimately allowing for the higher magics to be better used upon such wounds created.

Mechs – This ability allows the claws to be utilised with a infusing of magick to push their effects from close combat physical to a close or ranged magical effect. Costs 3 stamina to cast, and can be used as either a Ranged or Close Magical Attack at the wielder’s discretion. If the attack is successful, the wearer will make a roll of 1d5 to determine the amount of ‘wounds’ that show up upon the victim. A regular !damage roll will be made to determine damage, and each claw mark will add 1 point of damage to that total. If a roll of 5 is made, then the damage would be the !damage roll + 5. If these are used as a normal physical attack, then they carry the standard attack bonus for a weapon of this class.

Tigar'zimut ds' Ssinssrigg (The Treachery of Lust) (4 Slots)

Crafted from the desires of those who resented seductress and their uncanny ability to drive people to those sheer maddening heights of lust and arousal. Several seductress's were found, kidnapped and forced to use their abilities on each other, before finally being sacrificed at the height of their arousal, those offerings given to the gods, whilst this item was crafted, and it was a success, the gods looking down, and imbuing the item with the power that those who died had running through their forms at time of death, and allowing that item to take that arousal that was offered and inflict it upon others whenever it would do most good, or most harm.

Mechs -
This ability costs 10 stamina to use. For each action that the wielder uses in touching the victim, their arousal grows. For the first contact, the victim finds themselves becoming comfortably aroused, distracted by the tightening of nipples or the rush of blood to the sex. By the fifth stroke, their body is on fire, their mind absorbed with the single need to find sexual release, each word and innocent touch working against them to pitch them more against their own body’s demands. At this stage the victim becomes more open to suggestion, albeit not necessarily in agreement, and finds their symptoms do not abate until they have experience orgasm at least several times. OOC consent required, or higher than half of a !r 1dRES roll for each attempt to use it. Not usable in combat. Usable 5 times a week.

Shar Telanth (Mind Speak) (2 Slots)

What better way to keep the followers of Kirva in control, then to have their goddess literally speak to them. This ability was created for such a deception, to allow this one to pass within their ranks, and then allow that illusions of such speech to be offered to one follower at a time, to allow them the joy of being the single intended recipient of there Goddess's words within their mind.

Mechs - With a thought, the wielder of this item can allow their words to be heard within the mind of another, instead of being vocalised. This will mean that words can be heard by anyone, no matter whether they are hearing or not. Speech can only be in tongues that the wielder knows themselves, and if they do not know the natural language of a race, then they are unable to understand what that person might be thinking. Not usable in combat.

History:
In the depths of time, Kirva gloated, her worshippers were on the up, stronger, faster and more numerous than the rest of the lesser gods, holding herself to the highest of the high. And in her arrogance, she thought that it would always be that way, the she would never fall from her lofty perch. And so it came to pass, that her pride was the reason for her fall, the reason that her followers dwindled and left her embrace, flocking to the other upcoming gods.. Ishtar, Ulvecra, Aden Ver and the little hearth gods that emerged from under every rock and stone around the place. Kirva was left almost alone, few worshippers left, only those true faithful that remained in her service, and to reward their service, and to help rekindle interest in her, she summoned her highest of high priestesses, and informed her of what was to be done. The priestess was in shock how could such a thing be done, but.. she had been told, she had been informed, and so it would be done. Years taken to find the
right item that would be used as the base for the power that would be offered to the one lucky follower. The seductresses were kept close at hand in preparation for their part in the creation of such a wondrous item, and once the item was found, they were brought forth, made to worship and pour their powers into the item itself, before they had their throats cut, the blood caught and collected within blessed bowl, and
then the claws were submerged within it, left there for a month to soak up the final lashings of power from those poor wretches.

Once that was done, the process was repeated, several mages were brought forth, the same method repeated, spells cast over and over again within the item, before they were killed, the blood caught and claws soaked within it, to collect and settle within that power that resided within the blood.After such preparations were dealt with and the item was ready for its final offering, and so it was lifted, carried forth to the altar and set there. Thirteen days and nights of non-stop worship, and then the last offering to Kirva, to seal the powers, to offer it to her and seek her rise in power once again. The highest of high Priestesses was laid forth, throat slit and her life provided as the catalyst in order to offer this item to her goddess for her approval. The one who was to take over that position, lifting the claws, offering them firmly to the goddess, before sliding them in place, a nod as he felt the power flowing through her body, that connection to her goddess felt all the stronger for such actions.

And so, the worshippers of Kirva set forth to reclaim her place within the pantheon of the world, the claws used to lead the foray into the religions of others, offering such sacrifice as they could to there bountiful and wonderful religious head.The millennium passed by, the claws sliding from the hands of the highest Priestess, and eventually falling through the ranks, till one was gifted them, thinking them useless items, a feline adorned them, and brought them back into their true power, and from that point, they were only to be worn by a feline, for any other race would banish the powers from the claws till such time as they offered their lives and the claws to an altar of Kirva to atone for their mistakes.

Such passage is always paved with trouble and strife, and during an attack from a small marauding war-band upon a small temple, the feline wearing the claws was killed, and the claws were passed over in favour of other more obvious trinkets, and were left to the annuals of time.

In the recent years of the reign of Emperor Stormbringer, a feline was kidnapped and sacrificed at the local temple of Kirva. His soul ripped and part of it taken by the Dark Mother, using that connection to bend his will to her own from time to time, and as a part of that covenant that she exacted upon him, once enough had been done, that she felt he was truly hers, she lead him, by dream, by missive, to a long forgotten temple, once the height of her worshipping team, and now simply a ruined temple, broken and brought low by looters. He was drawn, in a dreamless sleep, to that temple, bent to his knees before the altar, to worship Kirva herself, and during the genuflection, his fingers found something within the earth, claws found and slowly cleaned off, a message from the Dark Mother herself, that he was to wear and use them in her service, although, unknown to her, he was fighting to free himself of that connection, to free his soul from that grip she had exerted upon him, and to have his life back to himself.

Mithril Bands Of Vengeful Seduction

Owned By: andara

Type of Item: Weapon

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
Bands crafted of Mithril, upon them the carvings of the Gods of the Moriel, vibrant to those who get close enough to them.

Powers:
Vengeful Lust:
Trapped thing within the bands, a hatred for those who are of the elf races not Moriel. Loathing that comes from within against High Elf’s or Sylvan’s. Anytime they are faced by a adversary that is full or even half blood of those races the Vambraces add to the magic, striking the superior nature of the Moriel race out against those of weaker blood.

Mech: Anytime a spell is used against a Halfblooded or full blooded Sylvan or High elf, the owner of the Vambraces gets a +5 to their attack roll.


Vengeful Domination :

Unable to be kind to elf’s that are not of Moriel blood. Always the Owner of the vambraces seeking a way to enslave or ensnare any of the weaker elf’s, who are not within a Dark Elf’s service, or in service to the Moriel Pantheon. Showing mercy, choosing not to attack, not to offer spite, will result in the bands inflicting incredible agony upon the Seductress who wears such.

Mech:

If the Owner of the Vambraces is within 5’ of any High elf or Sylvan Elf, who does not serve the Moriel Pantheon, nor a dark Elf themselves, and the Owner does not engage them with either some form of combat, or torment (including but not inclusive of those of a sexual nature), she will lose 7 life, and 4 stamina per posting round. This effect will continue until the Owner is out of the 5’ circle, or as long as the Owner remains in combat or torment of said creatures. Once the Owner is outside of that ‘circle’ the life and stamina are returned , however should the Owner reach 0 Life or No stamina due to such actions the Owner passes out. Should the Owner be unable to engage them, or leave them undamaged out of mercy, or lack of skill, the Owner takes a lose of 14 Life and 7 Stamina for the rest of the day.


Please note that OOC consent is required for combat and other intrusions into RP.


Vengeful Superiority

Should the Owner of the Vambraces ever willingly submit to a Male of any race, the Blessing of her Goddess will be withheld, and the Owner will suffer the wrath of the Deity in an excruciating fashion befitting the shame that has fallen upon the Owner.


Mech:

If the Owner ever within a scene willingly submit to a Male the bands powers will be halted, and the Owner will take 7 points from all of her Statistics. The Effect of such will remain until the Owner is free from her ‘bondage’ and sacrifice has been role-played out to the Goddess herself.


Connection of the Life:

The Bands are never removable, short of cutting the Owners hands off. Should this happen, the Owner of them will perish, as the life-force of the one who Owns the Vambraces is tied into the very Braces themselves. Only usable by a seductress who has given themselves over to Kirva completely, they cease to hold Magic once removed, awaiting for the next who is strong enough for Kirva to allow them to bond with.

History:
Andara` tired of her strength not being a match for some less experienced drek-eaters she had faced during her travels. After one duel with a Tribesman rogue which had almost cost Andara` her dark elven head, she decided to correct this tragic oversight once and for all. Being a seductress, she had never had much opportunity to build her physical brawn like a brawler, and this was costing her far too much in both time and blood. Traveling to the underdark, first she sought out the greastest mercenary smith in all the Dark Elven caverns on the second continent she knew of. There might have been better, but she wanted this done without undue questions. And who better than a mercenary who served all sides and belonged to none? She brought with her to Baraccus (for that was his name) mithiril and steel to be mixed and pounded out, shaped slowly over the days into a single wrist bracer. She asked for much and paid well for the smith to work his art to make the most exquisite wrist bracer that when worn enhanced her beauty. Once completed, Andara` paid him both in coinage and serving him for a week as his personal slave. The mercenary was so impressed by her "talents" he offered to keep her longer in order to make her a sword, but such was not in her interests. Giving him one final day of ecstasy, Andara` set off for her next destination. The dark elven seductress next dared the treachrous mountain homes of the dwarves, searching out their best mercenary smith from Clan Mithril. Upon locating the rogue master of the mystical metal, Andara` knelt before him in submission. Offering up to him the mithiril and fantastic ores, Andara` also told the master smith her services and body were his to use and abuse for the duration of the time needed to work the second wrist bracer - one to be made in equal beauty as the dark elven's smith did - from the mithril proferred and the strange rare earths only the deep dwarves normally possessed. The dwarven smith, not willing to pass up a chance to control even for a short time a dark elven seductress, granted Andara` her wish and as well gave her a task: to seduce and corrupt his greatest rival's daughter and transform her into nothing more than a sex slut for his pleasure and desires. Andara` nodding once, agreed to this bargain and vanished. She went out into the dwarven warrens, wandering through and using her sorcery in subtle ways to arrange a meeting with the unsuspecting young woman. The dwarven female (incidentally an OgresBane and GoblinSlayer at an early age) met with Andara` as ordained, not knowing what she was getting into. Andara using both sorcery and skill, befriended the young lass and seduced her. Corroding her will and heightening her senses, Andara` spent three weeks working on the once proud axemaiden, until she was no more than a mewling sexslave unless commanded to be otherwise. Andara` almost felt bad about this: she wanted the girl for herself. Bowing and groveling, and begging to be sold into her new Master's service and command, the axemaiden had completely forgotten her old life forever. Andara returned to the smith, smirking at the look on his face as the dwarven girl followed her a collar and leash as the dwarven lass was lead by Andara` into the dwarven smith's forge. Andara`, handing the leash to the dwarf took from him the second wrist bracer and seeing the two together looked them over finding them a perfect match even in their opposing styles, they could do naught but enhance her own physical beauty. Andara left the dwarves behind and returned to the Caverns of Neverlight, going to the Temple of the Spider in Elginnaft. Begging of the high priestesses to be allowed the favor of petitioning The Spider Demon Queen for her favour, she knew the hardest part of her quest had come about. The priestesses, of course, were not going to permit this favor to a dark elf with no house and no history. Andara` sat out side the temple and proceeded to offer up to the priestess and to Lloth her devotions in prayer and in blood, not eating or drinking for three whole weeks. Every day would she would beg to be allowed only to be denied, yet her will would not crumble; she was determined to gain the favor and beg the Spider Goddess to smile upon her. On the twenty first day as she slit her wrist again to offer her blood to the Spider Goddess, praying to the High Demon Goddess to be allowed to see Her, the doors of the high temple swung open. A lone figure walked out holding a staff in her hand, assisting the classic dark elven beauty's stride. Coming to stand before Andara` and looking down at her, the power and will exuding from her left no doubt in the mind of the dark elven seductress she was in the presence of The High Priestess. "Why do you come here to beg this favor you of no house and no history?" she asked in the language of the dark elves her voice not showing the age of her face. Andara` looked up bleary eyed and spoke slowly the strength in her voice showing her own inner strength. "I come to become fully one of the dark, though I have no house and no history, am I true daughter of the Spider Goddess. I beseech thee, allow this unworthy one to beseech the Spider Goddesss. if Lloth decides I be not worthy then shall I accept her judgement and go willingly and eagerly into Her arms never to return to this world." The high priestess smiled and nodded slowly not saying another word just turning and walking back towards the temple. Andara` stood and followed her in the doors closing behind them both. Only the high priestess herself and Andara` know what happened for sure inside the inner sanctum but a week later the doors to the inner sanctum were flung open and did Andara` stumble forth. Upon each wrist were the wrist bracers sealed perfectly around each wrist; on her left wrist a mix of the bright shiny steel with a band of mithiril running thru the middle the elder runes of Lloth embedded upon them while on her right wrist the curious metals of the dwarves black as night surronding the strip of mithirl, beautiful runes of the Goddess of Sexual Desire And Lust gracing it. They glowed with strength, even as the dark elven seductress looked bent and worn as if having journeyed to places no mortal ought go. Andara` fell to her knees just outside the doors, panting and weaving as she struggled to remain on her own two feet. The bands glowing still, the dark elven seductress found strength in them, straightening her haggard appearance to reflect her new inner power and prowess. She slowly stood tall, her eyes bright and her facing showing the cares sweeping away. Andara` bowed to the high priestess then walked from the temple returning to the surface and back to the Slaver's Guild Hall - her only home for now.

Nylista's Ring

Owned By: Eraelabryn

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
A ring, that attaches to the bracelet of Nylista by a thin chord that shimmers into appearance. Once connected both the stones in the bracelet, the chain and the gem of the ring appear to hold essence within, pulsing with the lifeforce of the one that wears them.

Powers:
Nylista‘s Form:
Due to Nylista’s taint, the owner of the ring is given the ability to blend in with their surroundings. More powerful then lurk, with but a thought expelled, the wearer becomes ‘invisible’ to the eye, literally blending in to their surroundings.

Mech:
Detect magic or detect Illusion being cast will show the Owner in the hidden state, if the one casting it can roll a !clomagatk vs. the Ring Bearers !clomagdef, after casting either of the spells. Other then that, the bearer remains unseen, as long as they do not walk, or talk. Anyone within the scene that can see the space the hider is in,and has reason to assume the Owner is there (such as seeing her walk within the room then entering after and not seeing her) can attempt to see them via the mech's provided. Not usable in combat at all.

Nylista’s Will:

The Priestess is blessed with the pure chaos of Nylista’s mind. Due to this, the mind becomes a battle ground of locked doors, capable of closing out those magic’s which would force reactions unwanted. Unmistakable will given life within the mind, forcing those that would tamper with their thoughts out.

Mech:
Due to the nature of the Owner's mind, all spells which play upon emotions, should they be successful in striking the Owner, (meaning the Owner failing to defend) will last at half the alloted time they would normally. This includes spells such as :Melody of Discord, Enchanted Evening, Melody of Mischief, Song of the Sirens, Sex thought, Mask of Desire, Obsession, Sexual Suggestion, Mind over Matter, Torrent of Tears, Spindle of Emotion, Fear Aura, Unholy Aura (all which effect the Emotions, and only them.) Useable in combat, and out of combat, as most of those spells are OOB.

Nylista’s Embrace:
The owner of the ring is capable by touching the flesh of another, of drawing out information. Much like the ability of Dark thought on the bracelet, it allows the One who owns the ring to take away knowledge of the others morals, and character. An Imprint that tells little but knowledge is Power to the one who holds such a tool.

Mech: A !clomagatk vs. !clomagdef is rolled. (Unless OOC consent is given, or the other yields) Should the owner of the ring win, they are allowed to ask 3 simple questions in PM of the character. The questions should be simplistic in nature. “Your characters alignment.” “Worst thing they have done.” “Are they in love” the information exchanged is up to the player of the ‘target’ allowing for the Owner of the ring to use that information as if it was given to them during the effect, IC. They cannot demand names, or direct information merely dream like occurrences, example. “Are you in love” they might receive a ‘vision’ of a girl with red hair, a description of the Targets love. Who do you hate, would give the same response, no name but an image.

Nylista’s Scent:
The ability to effect emotions through scent itself. With a wave of the hand, the Owner of the ring is capable of spreading the scent of things that bring memories to surface. Be it to incite lust, be it to enrage, be it to create an aura of fear, this is the magic of the ability.

Mech: Out of combat only, the Owner of the ring can target an area no larger then 20x20 . Capable of changing the scent of that area, and speaking the emotion they wish to effect, those in that area must either give OOC consent, or roll a !clomagatk vs. !clomagdef. Those who fail are affected by the “scent’ (Of course nothing sexual without OOC permission). The effect lasts one hour or until the scene is over. Should they wish to, they are allowed to roll another !clomagatk vs. !clomagdef 30 mins after the original casting to try to ‘wake up’ from the effect.

History:
The forbidden tool of dark forces, the blessing Kirva to the Priestess that brought down a enemy of the Moriel. One of the few gifts ever given to a half-breed, the Voice of Nylista, was rumored to lay underground, protected, until one who was worthy claimed it. Eraelabryn, having quested for it, after finding the story in Tome given as a gift to her, following each clue till she pieced together the Puzzle of Nylista. Half-breed Moriel, raised in the arms of the Gloom, then forced from her House, from her use as a whore by the full bloods. Raised as one of Kirva's, at least for what her blood would allow her to be, never seen worthy enough as those who could claim full heritage to the Dark Mother. She was forced surface side, given in a trade alliance to the Nobility that controlled the surface land where her House would broach when they came surface side, to trade, or to garner more information. Part of a shady alliance, she, Moriel-trained courtesan, a rarity , to be given over to a Surface Sider, no matter their illusion of Nobility. Unable to tolerate the sunlight, those first years surface side, she was carefully cloistered away within the Lord's keep, watched over, forced to preform, forced to bear his touch. Night after night, she would call out, never wavering to the Dark Mother. Weak as a kitten, bastard born, this was to be her lot in life. Slut to the surface born, controlled in form, but never in Spirit, sold for a song, nothing more. Powerless, and worthless, something even more then pitiful, she was everything a full blood Moriel would hold in contempt, not even fit to lick the boots clean of her once House mates. It was on one such night, it appeared. Onyx metal, strong as mithril, glittering like gem, in the shape of a booby pin, nothing large, merely a slight clip. Wondering if her prayer had been answered, she slipped it within her locks, pain like fire, racing through her veins, as item welded with her scalp, forced her into that bout of screaming insanity, suddenly the quiet, as her life was given over, in exchange for it. To serve, but bow only to One. Kirva's own words a warning, those who failed her, suffered such things unspeakable. The quiet of it, as she lay still, the vision of what she was to do, overtaking her. Driven to the edges of insanity, she cried out, sirens song, swearing everything to Kirva, if only she would be allowed to serve. Giving her all, flesh, mind, heart, soul, and spirit to the Dark Mother, in exchange for the chance at vengeance, against even her birth. Years passed, the same prayer, and she took all she could. Learning more of those who dwelled in the Light. Lurking about, slowly drawing information unseen. Spreading those rumors, inciting fear within the Harem itself. The Lord, growing old, sought her out, her skill with pleasure known. Slowly she seduced him, his love for her, known, his favor of her allowing her more Power. Garnered with her blood, her sweat, her cum and her tears. Ever so slowly, she began to manifest her vengeance upon those who had betrayed her. First those of this House, the Lords own, whispers of her accusations, that ability to feed the fear inside of one, turn it against them through calculated actions. Slowly the Lords power over his lands began to falter. Her voice, whispered in the darkness, feeding his nightmares, slowly forcing him to turn on those who loved him most, loved him true. Loyalties divided, she then sought to spread her infection, shadows cloaking her, as she lurked about, the rumors of witchcraft, of lies, shielding her. None would speak out, that tension even in rooms, thinking she would be lurking about, merely waiting for them to speak against her, so she could plot their deaths. Kill them, even as they spoke. Surface born, constantly looking upwards, afraid of the little spider, as if she could be sitting in the rafters, merely listening and learning, their own information to be used against them. As the Lords hold upon his lands began to falter, so did the alliance with her Once House. Careful little thing, always plotting, it was this Creature known as Nylista. Slowly using the visions of peoples fears, she began to hold court, in her lovers place. Slowly shifting until she held the power, ruled with fist made of Mithril, fear and loathing her courtesans. Using change self, to appear less Moriel, more convincing in her beauty, she began a war that would leave her former House stripped of Glory. Vengeance came in the form of killing once protected Matron, and establishing trade with another House. Kirva's will had been done, those who had neglected her worship, brought about to justice, perverted as it was. Another House given the powerful position to able to trade with the Surface for those things one could not find below. Mhl's are power, in any form, for most Races. Choosing to live on the Surface, to being the practice of converting surfacers to a Goddess they called another name, only the most loyal of converts ever being aware the Goddess they prayed to was Kirva herself. It was only with the passing of Nylista, this secluded vale, so many years ago, would fall into ruin, noone able to take up the Mantle, Kirva had provided. A test for her subjects, a test of even the weakest of her bloodline. But..so much was learned from it. Laying dormant, sealed in a tomb awaiting the next that would claim it, the story of Nylista fell into legend, and with that legend, the details changed. It became the story that Nylista was not Moriel born, merely wicked. It became the story that Kirva was not the Goddess but, another depraved one, who slumbers until Nylista walks again, those bits of flesh and blood given to metal, buried with her, guarded, until the one strong enough to claim it with the blood of others would take it up. Rumors and stories, the gift of the Tome to Eraelabryn, all that time, spent gathering information to the where the "Mythical" land would have been. Striding forth, she sought out the Tomb of Nylistia, and with others gave her pain, her visions, her flesh, to claim the pin itself. Legends all have some grain of Truth, but like all things, that grain must be searched for.

Ranger's Companion

Owned By: Unowned

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
Class: Ranger
Level: 60

This is a small magical pouch of velvet containing three ancient figurines, each depicting a different animal. There is a black wolf, a silver wyvern, and a brown stallion. Each figurine is two inches tall, and their powers are suppressed while inside of the bag. If a figurine is removed from the bag, its powers activate. The bearer may remove up to one figurine at a time as they wish, figurines can be recalled to the pouch by concentrating on one with the intent to retrieve it.

Powers:
Silver Wyvern (4 Slots OOB)
Once the Silver Wyvern figurine is removed from the bag, it transmutes into a winged beast, resembling an average sized Wyvern of silver scales. This wyvern is a solid corporeal being, and will follow the commands of the bearer except as follows: the wyvern will never attack anything, and if confronted in combat the wyvern will retreat. If attacked it will return to the pouch in figurine form, and be unavailable for 24 hours. The Silver Wyvern takes one action to summon, and cannot be summoned during combat.

Mech: The wyvern travels at a speed of 30 mph. The wyvern has very keen sight, making it useful for spotting from its vantage point. Once per day, it may try to see through any disguise, hiding spot, or even magical spells used for concealment. If there is a line of sight between the Wyvern and such a target roll 1d10: results of 8, 9, and 10 allow the Wyvern to detect it. Once per week, the Wyvern may secrete a magical antidote from its fangs that will overpower any sickness or poison that besets the Ranger, restoring up to 1d30 Life that has been lost in such a manner. OOB only. This creature cannot be ridden.

Black Wolf (3 Slots OOB)
Once the Black Wolf figurine is removed from the bag, it transmutes into a dark lupine beast, resembling an average sized wolf of jet black fur. This wolf is a solid corporeal being, and will follow the commands of the bearer except as follows: the wolf will never attack anything, and if confronted in combat the wolf will retreat. If attacked it will return to the pouch in figurine form, and be unavailable for 24 hours. The Black Wolf takes one action to summon, and cannot be summoned during combat.

Mech: This creature may track for the Ranger, and is able to do so through any terrain, even when the trail seems to be non-existent. The wolf may aid the ranger in tracking three times per day. To track, roll 1d10: results of 8, 9, and 10, allow the wolf to accurately pursue a trail for an hour. OOC consent is required to track a character who has not provoked the Ranger. Once per day, the wolf has the power to cloak it and its owner with magic, making them blend into their surroundings as if hiding. This effect lasts for 1d5 rounds, or until the ranger attacks; and anyone attempting to spot the ranger during this effect must roll 1d10 and get 1-8. OOB only. This creature cannot be ridden.

Brown Stallion (2 Slots Combat)
Once the Brown Stallion figurine is removed from the bag, it transmutes into a large chestnut horse. This horse is a solid corporeal being, and will follow the commands of the bearer except as follows: the horse will never attack anything. If slain it will return to the pouch in figurine form, and be unavailable for 24 hours. Its powerful build and great speed makes it the perfect companion for rushing past or away from danger. The Brown Stallion takes one action to summon, and can be summoned while in combat.

Mech: The Brown Stallion has 5 Life, and uses !combatdice 10 10 for defence. The horse can support the owner and their equipment, or up to five hundred pounds of weight. When it gallops, a scorching trail is left in its wake, as it may move at six times the pace of a normal horse. Due to its incredible speed, it and its rider receive a +5 bonus to defence against ranged physical attacks. Useable in combat.

Spirit Bond (3 Slots OOB)
All three animals can communicate with their owner in a tongue understandable only to each other, by sound or mental link. If any of the creatures perish while in the service of the ranger and following a command, the Ranger is harmed by the sensitive nature of the link they share. The pouch may only be used three times per week, regardless of which figurines are summoned and in which order. Only one figurine may remain active at a time. Any other active figurine will have to be recalled, before a new one may come into play.

Mech: Communication usable up to one mile OOB. Any of the figurines will return to the pouch if they ever stray more than a mile from the bearer. If any of the three animals are forced to return to the pouch by any other means than recalling them, the Ranger suffers 5 points of damage.

History:
Auroa couldn't count the days she had been held captive within the dank cell; a cavernous jail held deep within the bowels of the Mother herself. There was no light to pierce the cryptic shadows that swarmed within the crevices and around the hollowed shelves - only the drip of moisture as it hit the stone floor in rhythmic, maddening staccato. She had been tracking the Monster for days now, since the day she had come across the destroyed village. It had torn throw the huts and fields with deep furrows of its claws. The last thing she remembered was coming upon the cave, before darkness.

In the cavern she could not see much, but she could hear and smell; the fetid stench of the beast's experiments, its hordes of stolen treasure that clinked and glittered in the dim recesses, and the sounds of his heavier movements shifting within the tunnels above her. They had stayed with her through the days she had been kept within the cell, nothing but a few plates of mouldy cheese and crumbs pushed towards her - food she had subsequently pushed aside for fear of some poison that he may have injected. Weak, her muscles shivering as the ability to sustain her body temperature slowly leaked with her strength. However, as she shivered in her corner, plotting a means to escape, there was a whisper in her mind, an urging and almost a rally of support that fed into her psyche.

The whispers were thin, a mere stream of consciousness, and when her fingers dug into the earth, tore at the stones and piled them in the corner, she could almost feel the claws of an animal pressing down with her. It bolstered her strength, feeding her images of what she could not see, where she would need to go and how she would defeat the Beast that kept her, kept all of them, prisoner. It took hours, fear racing down her spine each time the roof shook with those footsteps; but he did not appear, and soon she had dug a small hole beneath the bars of the cell. Like a ferret she slid beneath, pushing herself like a contortionist, painful as it was, until she had gained the side of the other bars. Faltering, her eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness, Auroa stumbled for a moment as her breathed ceased, for just a moment, listening instead. They lead her to them, buried beneath the horde of riches and gold, a small velveteen pouch containing the totem images.

Pulling the first of the three, she saw the wolf carved into the warm wood; rubbing her thumb against the maw and teeth, she looked around, trying to determine a way out of the beast's under ground lair. The totem shimmered, and then grew, until the large lupine stood on all fours, shaking his body in a sign of ecstatic release. The wolf lead Auroa to the surface, tracking the scent the Beast had left many times before; however when they gained the upper level of the cavern, fear gripped her that the Beast would see them and attack. He never did, the wolf assured her as a blanket of the obscure was thrown across her. Yet how would she defeat him? She couldn't flee, without taking him down. The wolf, done with his part as he ushered her into a secluded place, nudged at the pouch, before returning to his original form. Auroa pulled the next totem out, that of a wyvern - immediately it became corporal and solid, stretching its wings before it climbed onto the ceiling of the cave. It looked with eyes meant for her, then whispered of a hidden sword that would help her defeat the Beast – and where to find it.

Auroa, skulking along the cavern’s sides, searched for where the sword was hidden; finding it, she crept until at the very back of the enemy. He roared with the pain as the sword sliced through his thick hide, the black viscous fluid of his blood rushing onto the stone floor. It rattled the roof, chunks of rock spilling down the sides of the room and tumbling in dangerous array. Auroa, pulling away from the Beast, hurried towards the mouth of the cavern, stumbling as she did. The wyvern called out a warning, before returning to the pouch, and in doing so, she pulled the final totem free. Immediately the brown horse emerged at its imposing glory, Auroa mounted up, clinging to its back. In a rush of air she could feel the darkness of the cavern become a dim memory, looking back as she saw the collapse of the Lair come down onto the dying Monster.

Upon her return, she was exulted for her skill in bringing down the Monster that had plagued the Empire, becoming a Legend in her own right. The pouch was said to be gifted to the Emperor upon her death – the totem animals contain within only waiting for the right person to pass themselves onto.

Robes of Korin'tharr, Archmagi of the Flames

Owned By: Scathien

Type of Item: Armor

Equipment Slots Used: 2

Description:
Item Type: Armor
Base Item: Robe of the Archmagi
Class Required: Fire Mage


Korin'Tharr was a flashy magi to say the least, and he made absolutely sure those that looked upon him knew his rank and station within the society of the Magi. The robe seems as smooth and soft as silken cloth, but it was woven out of mythril, and as such the entire robe seems to shimmer as if it were created of such. Aincient runes adorn the entirety of the robe, flickering to life when the robe's powers are used or when the user is close to fire. It is modified to allow for the use of wings should its wearer have them and the symbol of Morpheus adorns the back of the robe in the spot between the wings

Powers:
Base Def: 5
Enchanted Def: +15
Special Abilities: Firey Summons, Weaving the Threads of Flame, Soothing Flames
Magical Abilities: Korin'tharr's Avatar, Firey Tunnel
Penalties: Attracted to Lightning

Special/Magical Abilities in Detail:

Firey Summons:

Description:
This ability allows the wielder to summon or dismiss the robe and any items associated with it to make it appear or vanish on the wearer at will with a little concentration.

Mechanics:
Using this ability requires one full round to either summon or disperse the robe and the items associated with it. In order to associate something with the robe, the item must be worn when the robe is dismissed, and the wearer must mentally choose the item to disperse along with the robe. If the robe is dismissed in this manner, any items dispersed along with it are unable to be used until the robe is summoned once more. Once the robe is summoned, any items the wearer currently has on him are now dispersed, and are unable to be used until the robe is dispersed. Items to be associated with the robe must be chosen each time the robe is dispersed otherwise only the robe will be dispersed. This ability does not affect how many mehrials on hand he/she has in any way whatsoever.

Korin'Tharr's Avatar:

Description:
Korin'tharr was a master of the flames, so much so that he could open gateways into the elemental realm of fire, summoning forth mighty fire elementals in the form of an armored warrior with wings to do his bidding.

Mechanics:
10 stamina and 2 full rounds are required to use this ability. Upon starting the summoning, the wielder is compelled to complete it, and is unable to attack for the duration of the summoning. Upon completion, a fire elemental is summoned, taking the form of a winged warrior with a flaming sword.

It's ranged attack changes the sword into a bow and fires a flaming arrow, all attacks are concidered magical in terms of dice combat and are made at a +5 modifer.

All defencive rolls are made at +10 modifier. Takes double damage from ice/water spells, and is able to absorb fire damage to heal itself at a rate of 2 points of fire damage for 1 point of life restored.

The elemental also has the ability to control natural fire, and is able to draw it into itself to restore its stamina, this takes 1 full round to do so, and adds 50% of max stamina to its current stamina (fire elemental is unable to evade to regain stamina because of this).

The fire elemental also has natural flight ability and is human sized.

The elemental's stats are 30% of the wielder's current stats.

The elemental can only be summoned 3 times a month during the summer, 1 time per month during the winter (due to extreme cold weather making it too stressful to summon a being of pure fire multiple times) and twice per month during spring and autumn as long as it does not rain.

the wielder may not attack while the fire elemental is summoned, and is required to expend 5 stamina per round to keep the elemental in existance. The wielder is unable to evade to regain stamina during this time. If a successful attack is delt to the wielder, the fire elemental looses its grasp upon the material realm, and disperses, cast back to the elemental plane of fire.

Soothing Flame

Description:
When wounded, the wearer may draw from a source of natural fire, using its energy to accellerate his healing.

Mechanics:
When near a natural source of fire, the wearer may concentrate and draw the flames toward him, in doing so the wearer heals by 10% of max life per round at a cost of 5 stamina per round, this ability will heal any wound taken by the bearer but only so long as the wearer recieved the wounds while wearing the robe. This will also heal wounds that can not be healed by normal magic

Weaving the threads of flame:

Description:

The robe can not be damaged by fire based attacks/abilities/skills and can even be repaired by natural fire.

Mechaincs:

Any ability/spell/skill related to fire is unable to damage or destroy the robe. Should the robe be damaged/destroyed through other means, the wearer is able to manipulate natural flame to repair the robe to its origional state even if it was completly destroyed due to its bond with the wearer.

Firey Tunnel

Description:
Using natural fire, the wearer of the robe can open gateways between two points in space using a connecting "tunnel" through the elemental plane of fire

Mechanics:

Requiring 20 stamina, 1 full round of concentration, and a source of natural fire, once the ability is used, a gateway opens within the source of natural fire. Upon stepping inside, the gateway closes and the waerer must choose a destination. Distance traveled is limited to 1 mile per level of the wearer, and the exit gate must also form from natural fire. Because of this, while inside the gate, the wearer can sense any source of natural fire that is within the distance limit from the opening gate. The wearer may take others with him but he must expend an extra 10 stamina per person to protect them from the rigours of the elemental plane of fire as they traverse the gateway.

Penalties in Detail

Attracted to Lightning

Description:

One would think that a high affinity to fire would be offset by a large weakness against cold, however, the mythril thread weaved into the robe seems to have an odd side effect of bestowing a weakness to spells of the air domain, as well as acting like metal when in the presance of lightning.

Mechanics:

Wearer gains a +25% weakness to air based spells, and when struck by the lightning bolt spell, the robe reacts as if it were metal armor.

History:
The robe of Korin'Tharr's Origions are as interesting as the magi for whom the robe was created. Korin'Tharr was a magi dedicated to his craft. While many worked to be as diverse as they could in their magical talents, Korin'tharr worked almost single-mindedly toward one specific goal, to breach the boundries of the elemental planes and explore what lay within.

He was of course concidered insane by his fellow magi, but Morpheus did not turn a blind eye from this odd child of her race. Subtly she guided him along the path that he had chosen, not truely directly intervening, but allowed him progress on his path while shielding him from the enemies that he had made within the ranks of the magi who were supposedly greater than him.

One day, he succeeded in doing something that no other Magi had accomplished... He had breached the supposed limits of his race, and Morpheus allowed him to bond with the element of fire, becoming the very first Fire Mage of the Magi.

Others refused to acknowledge his accomplishment, labeling him an outcast and attempting to oust him from their realm so that his attributes would not encourage others to follow him. Morpheus however had other plans for her follower. She obtained pure mythril and using her magic, weaved it into a robe for him to wear, tinging the metal with the color of red to signify the bond with his element, placing upon it runes of protection, as well as other secret runes which gifted untold powers upon the wearer of the robe.

Korin'Tharr awoke one morning to find the robe folded neatly on the edge of his bed, and upon seeing it he thanked his goddess, as no other could have possibly created such a piece of beauty with mortal hands... His studies continued, and one day several years later he finally accomplished his life long goal, breaching not only time and space as his people have done countless times before, but breaching the boundries of the elemental planes.

Others began to fear him and the power he now possessed. While he could breach any of the elemental planes, he found that he could only safely breach the elemental realm of fire due to his connection with it. He started to venture into the realm of summoning, calling forth elementals of varying power and holding them in his control.

Unfortunalty one day he extended his control a little too far.. and lost control of an elemental, and could do nothing as he watched it rage through the city, killing hundreds before it could finally be destroyed.

This time, Morpheus could not protect her favored child, and Korin'Tharr was cast from his homes down to the lands of Belariath where he lived out the rest of his days. Not many know where his magnificent robe ended up... but some speculate that it lies in the treasury of Lord Stormbringer's keep, awaiting its next worthy master....

Roland's Last Breath

Owned By: Van Masterson

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
Roland's Last Breath is a Mithril ring, two jade dragons facing together to form a heart. There is an inscription circling the inside of the ring, bearing what are clearly intended to be letters, but not in any known language. However, any who runs their fingers over the marks can hear the inscription spoken aloud in their mind: “Darkness cannot blind me. Magic cannot fool me. Evil cannot touch me. Though my face may change, my heart is true, and my faith is strong. I am the shield, the wall, and the mountain."

Powers:
I am the Shield (2 slots combat)

This effect allows Van to protect himself and those who join him in any fight.

Mechanics

This ability is active whenever Van is in combat and wearing the ring. It is marked by a faintly glowing aura of light around him. The effect can cover 5 targets (Van plus 4 others) and can be used once per combat scene. Any attacks (close or ranged) against targets within the shield must instead be made against him, with his normal defensive enchants. It is cancelled if Van is stunned, knocked unconscious, or is killed.

Darkness Cannot Blind Me (2 slots OOB)

Grants Van the ability to see in the dark whenever Van is wearing the ring.

Mechanics
Vans eyes will gloss over into shiny grayish orbs, allowing him to see in absolute darkness whether caused by natural occurrences or magically induced.
This effect lasts until he emerges into the light.

Magic Cannot Fool Me (2 slots OOB)

Grants Van a degree of protection against perception altering spells whenever the ring is being worn. This includes illusions and emotion or thought altering spells such as Mind Over Matter or Sex Thought.

Mechanics
This effect gives Van a +5 to his defensive roll.

My Face May Change (6 slots OOB)

When the ring is worn, Van may change his appearance to match one of the last 5 people that have touched him.

Mechanics
Cost 4 stamina to change. The change lasts until the next sunrise, or until Van is separated from the ring, but persists into sleep or unconsciousness. The last five people that have made contact with Van are eligible to be chosen as a form Van can take. Only applies to playable races and while under the effects of this ability, Van does not gain any of the spells, items, or abilities the person may have save for natural racial (flight if Torian or Chirot. breathing underwater if mer-person. Anything that uses magic would not be usable such as Magi flight.) This ability does not carry over into combat. OOC consent required to take another person's form.

History:
“Darkness cannot bind me. Magic cannot fool me. Evil cannot touch me. Though my face may change, my heart is true, and my faith is strong. I am the shield, the wall, and the mountain." – Inscription circling the handle of Roland's Last Breath, legendary Mithril Ring. It cannot be read – but tracing the letters with a finger sounds the words clear as day in the mind of the reader.

Everyone always knew Roland and Chloe would be wed one day. The blacksmith's son and the mayor's daughter. Him broad of chest and shoulder, dark of hair and eye, slow to anger and loyal to a fault. Her blue-eyed and blonde-haired, quick with a tease and quicker to laugh, beloved by all with eyes for only one.

Their shift from childhood friends to awkward teenagers to stumbling courtship was the talk of the village – Chloe simply started showing up at the forge every day. First with some excuse, some bent horseshoe or cracked tool, and then to fill the ears of the handsome blacksmith's apprentice with whatever chatter ran about the town that day. And then just to sit near him and listen while he talked, deep voice punctuated by hammer-blows and the hiss of cooling metal.

Then the night of the raid. They came by night, dark-skinned raiders sallying forth from the hidden belly of the earth. Anyone who raised a weapon, spear or bow or hammer, was wrapped in magic and left to wander blind while the elves bound the village's women, and vanished into the night.

The next day, there was no doubt where they had gone. They knew it well – the great rift in the earth in the foothills of the sleeping mountain that dominated the landscape. The Pit, they called it. And many the eye turned to his own feet when the mayor called for a posse to go down into the dark, to get their women back. To get his daughter back.

No man stepped forward, and no man could meet the mayor's eye. Dark elves were terrifying and deadly foes to face above the earth – to go down and chase after them in the winding dark was suicide. To go down was to die, and to whiten the caves of the Gloom with bones for evermore.

No man stepped forward, but one scarcely more than a boy, with but twenty summers on his cheeks, broad of chest of shoulder, slow to anger, and loyal to a fault. Roland stepped forward, and met the mayor's blue eyes with his dark. By the god of the sleeping mountain, by the fire and the forge, he swore to bring back their women. And so Roland went alone down into the deep, with little more than a handful of candles and his hammer in his hand.

The moriel had not been cautious, not bothered to hide the signs of their passing, even in the dim stone of the Nethergloom. They'd camped less than an hour from the surface to rest and sample their takings, delighting in the squeals and squirmings of their bound captives. They were totally unprepared when he fell upon them. Wild-eyed and shouting fit to shake the very stalactites loose, with a hammer swinging true, he laid a half dozen of them out in a matter of heartbeats, freed what was left of the women, and all but galloped away into the dark.

But he did not kill them all, and no one goes down into the Gloom and walks away so easily. They were lost ten minutes from the makeshift camp, and out of candles within three hours. As the darkness drew closer, they joined hands, Roland at the lead, Chloe at the back, following the walls of rock towards any faint glimmer of light. It wasn't until the third chink of daylight winked out that they heard the laughter.

The moriel had caught up, and in the manner of dark elves, were playing with their prey – creating the illusion of daylight here or candlelight there – drawing the humans down ever deeper labyrinths, further and further from the surface. Little by little their line huddled into a circle, terrified and brutalised women gathering behind Roland, and behind Chloe at his side.

Bored, the moriel swept in, with blades glinting in the dark. And as they came for him, the blacksmith's son thrust Chloe behind him, offered his chest to their spears, and boomed out in a voice like thunder.

“Darkness cannot bind me! Magic cannot fool me! Evil cannot touch me! My heart is true, and my faith is strong! I am the shield, the wall, and the Mountain!"

There in the dark where the sun had never risen, a thousand eyeless things screamed in fear as a great light filled the cave. It drove the elves back, sent them hooting and crying in pain scrambling away into the dark, clutching at keen eyes struck blind in a heartbeat. When it faded, Chloe found herself staring down at a dark ring; her man no longer there.

The ring was too big for her dainty fingers, so with it in her hands, the Nethergloom was bright as day. The remnants of the moriel band that dared approach fell back before that dark metal, and when they turned to arrows in their cowardice they shattered in the air. With the shield in her hands, every illusion crumbled before her, and step by step, she led the women back into the light.

They finally emerged into soft moonlight and fresh air. Every woman taken swears she saw Roland standing with them at the mouth of the cave – swears she saw him lift his hammer, and crumble the opening into nothing but sealed earth and stone. Only the women, however, returned to the village.

Chloe dedicated her life to the God of the sleeping mountain. A god of fire and blacksmiths, of order and chaos, of light in the darkness, raising a temple to Uvelcra where Roland's forge once stood. She hung up the ring above the anvil, where it remained until the village faded into obscurity.

Since then, Roland's Last Breath has appeared on the finger of various different Uvelcran Paladins and Priests, appearing where needed and fading away again in times of peace. Somewhere along the line, it gained the curious inscription circling the inside, not written in any language known to any scholar, but when the fingers follow the runes, the words sound aloud in the reader's mind.

Legends say, that when carried, sometimes, the wearer looks like a different person entirely – a dark-eyed, dark-haired smith, or a blonde-haired, blue eyed mayor's daughter – or any one of countless wielders who have born the shield in the ages since Roland went down into the dark.

Shackles to Immortality

Owned By: StormWind

Type of Item: Armor

Equipment Slots Used: 1

Description:
Bracers - A pair of wide leather cuffs as if they were meant to perhaps stop the progress of a sword, each bearing a charm of gleaming metal, one the nine tailed whip of the clerics of Sheara, the other her horn, used to call her children to arms. When the powers of the shackles are called upon, these charms might be seen to glow, or shift, as if to reflect the purpose to which they are being tasked, whether it be a flickering flame of metal, or else a pair of vipers fangs perhaps, or the twisted loop of eternity upon which a pair of souls must travel. Yet always, these charms, whatever form they may take, still ride upon the cuffs which bear them

Powers:
Lure of Flame (2 Slots - OOB)
This item grants its bearer protection from flames and heat. Even extending the protection to other items carried by the bearer of the item. It won't allow them to stand within the heart of a fire, because that would tax its abilities and render it useless, but it would allow them to move through flames or remain on fire for an amount of time without worry.

Mechs
Allows the bearer to withstand the effects of fire and flames that are mundane in effect. Magical flames and fire will still cause damage to the bearer of this item. This effect can be used three times a week and lasts till end of scene and requires some movement in order for the ability to work and keep the bearer from harm. Not usable in combat.


Deaths Touch (2 Slots - Combat)

This item was created with both the powers of healing and death in mind, as they are but the same sides of the coin of life.This skill allows the bearer to reverse the natural order of healing against their opponent, causing their life force to stutter and wither slightly, as though their life energy was being sapped by something.

Mechs
Costs 2 stamina per attack. Ranged physical attack vs ranged physical defense. Damage roll as normal. The effect is almost a dying or wilting of the target, as if they have been pushed closer to death's notice. No visible wounds, but a decaying effect would occur upon the targeted area. Damage dealt and any effects of this wilting can be healed as normal after combat has ended. Range of this ability is at most 400 meters.

Touch of Health (4 slots - OOB)

At the cost of 1 stamina per 1 life healed, this ability can heal life to others, via a laying on of hands. Limited to 50 points of life healed upon a person per day. This ability can also be used to cure disease and poison once per day up-to class 4 poisons

Twins Rebirth (4 Slots - OOB)

Twin souls in a single form, such a conundrum for the gods to sort out, and even after all this time, such ramifications of such a being weren't fully understood. One such item was this, the fact that the souls, joined as they were and yet separate, could call upon the other, even in death and draw themselves back to life with enough time and effort. When one soul was sent to the great beyond, then after a full day, the other would have enough pull to bring the dead back to life, coming to life at a place that is held dear to both souls.


Mechanics:
Upon the death of the character in combat, the body and items carried upon literally disappears, seeming to fade to dust. Role play effect alone. The body will reappear after one day, returning to life at a place that is held dear to the heart and soul of the bearer of this item. Returning them to life with all their possessions they had upon them at time of death. This doesn't invalidate the cost required for rezzing, merely allows them to come back to life without the need of another

History:
She had been putting a lot of thought into how she might help her chosen twins to reach their full potential. How could she teach them what she needed them to know? That there was more to their craft than they knew, that the health and safety of others was not only the pervue of the healers, that death was from time to time to be embraced, rather than feared, that life and death together made and endless loop to be forever traveled by ones soul, or in their case, the pair of them. That was it, a pair. They needed a pair of items, one for each of them, that would embody those things she needed, wanted them to learn, and that would, should all go right, lead them to the station she had chosen for them. Bracers, yes... those would work, and so she drew them forth, crafted them as she had envisioned them. There would be one for each of her sons, her twins. One to mark the cleric, and the other, her dark and storm cast shadow.

She focused then, on the spells they would need to carry, and gifted them with the lure of flame, to protect her boys from that unnatural attraction they seemed to hold. Next came the touch of Health, so that they would better able to help her elfling daughter, when she over extended herself as she so often did, not that she expected them to keep it only for her once they discovered it of course. Next, the touch of death, to teach them that it was not to be feared, as well as to give them ways to protect themselves, something that in her estimation, they did far too little of. Last of course, because it was the one she hoped they would have the least use for, the Twin's Rebirth, allowing the pair of them to travel the circle of eternity far more rapidly than most, so that they would always return to her shrine, and thus not leave it in the hands of the uneducated Zealots, of which it seemed there were far too many, and all for the want of one mistranslated word. Now Imbued, she marked them for her twins, and sent them on the winds to find their way to the hollow world, and keep her sons safe until the time came for them to once more sit at her side, one her right hand, the crier to bring her children to their proper path, and the other, her left hand, using his strength to protect those that came under their sway. And so were born, the Shackles to Immortality.

The Bell of Alarea, the Gift of Lust

Owned By: sabina

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
This tiny bell was gifted by the Goddess Alarea, a temptress of desire and lust, it can be worn as jewelry, and at the moment, decorates the little clit piercing on a certain cat-elf that resides under Inn property.

Powers:
Arousal (4 Slots)

This ability works best when the caster is attempting to deter a possible enemy from physically attacking, a means to keep them so preoccupied that physical violence is as far from their mind as possible for the victim. The spell requires touch, of any kind, be it from the brush of hand to hand, or any other skin-to-skin contact. The longer contact remains, the more the caster is able to fill the victim with their presence by means of that intangible connection, the more the victim finds themselves under the influence of an erotic impulse to gain self-gratification. The need itself growing until finally nothing but that singular need to orgasm at least several times has been fulfilled, leaving the victim finally satiated and exhausted from their efforts.

Mechanics:
For each action that the caster uses in touching the victim, their arousal grows. For the first contact, the victim finds themselves becoming comfortably aroused, distracted by the tightening of nipples or the rush of blood to the sex. By the fifth stroke, their body is on fire, their mind absorbed with the single need to find sexual release, each word and innocent touch working against them to pitch them more against their own body’s demands. At this stage the victim becomes more open to suggestion, albeit not necessarily in agreement, and finds their symptoms do not abate until they have experience orgasm at least several times. OOC consent required, or higher than half of a !r 1dRES roll for each attempt to use it. It lasts the duration of the day and usable once per day. Not usable in battle.

Atonement: (2 Slots - Combat)
This ability works much the same as Arousal works, with the exception that it is the bell’s way of keeping its owner in check. As a gift to the more submissive of Alarea’s subjects, the bell has a way of moderating its owner’s moods and reminding them of their position in life. Should the owner find themselves becoming aggressive, or willfully initiate a fight, argument or combat, the bell will lash out at the owner with the power they may casually use on others. At first it might seem as a brief sting, a shock of energy that passes along their sex and nipples, reacting to the first hint of aggression, but if the owner persists, and even willfully enters into a fight, they find themselves the victim of a burning desire. It can border on painful, as even masturbation does not ease their suffering, orgasm denied to them. This denial of ecstasy can last several days, or until the owner has subjected themselves to an act of submission that demonstrates their regret and pacifistic nature. This only works on the owner of the item, and cannot be casted on anyone else.

Allure: (3 Slots)
The owner of the bell gives off a persistent and enduring aura of both peace of sexual allurement, adding to both their appeal and their ability to put off the fears, wariness and even in some more extreme cases prejudices of those who may be in close enough proximity to the wearer. It was the gift of Alarea so that who so ever was given the bell, might find them in a better position to avoid conflict and ease the tension of those who the bell’s owner served. Requires OOC consent, not usable in battle.

Amenity: (2 Slots)
Since the bell was designed ultimately with the safety and well-being of the owner in mind, it was given the touch from the Goddess that, no matter what the temperature, the owner would always be cloaked in an invisible veil that kept them comfortable enough. Though not exceptionally comfortable mind you, but this ‘veil’ or magical coating, keeps the subject warm in times of freezing temperatures, or cool when the temperatures have sky rocketed. So that, even if naked in the time of Frostspear, the owner would not find themselves frostbitten, or in the summer, their skin burnt by an unforgiving sun.

History:
The elven Goddess Alarea, a temptress of desires and weaver of true lust. She thought it best to design a tool that would remind her favored pets of the gift of giving, especially of one self and that of physical pleasure. Ever a mind to be mischievous she had deigned to come to Belariath one night, under the guise of a mere (though quite alluring) mortal.

In the city of Nanthalion, there she met with a bound little bundle of carnal devotion, sabina, and though unbeknown to the little elf-kitten, when her fingers strayed a little lower, gifting her with that tiny bell. Where it could wreak the most damage.

The Blade of Kinslayer - Greatsword of Slaying and Dominance

Owned By: Elthorion Kinslayer

Type of Item: Weapon

Equipment Slots Used: 1

Description:
Base Item: Great Sword

Powers:
Protection of the Blade (2 Slots)
The blade has a built in protection from the elements, creating a barrier that absorbs a portion of damage sustained from elemental magic.

Mechanics : The caster shaves 25% off damage from the elements and elemental magics

Tesseract (3 Slots OOB)
~Tesseract~, a teleportation spell allows the possessor of this item to shift up to seven people or mounts (not including himself) to a place of his choosing. It requires prior OOC consent; those who do not give consent are left behind. It costs 1 LFE and 1 STA per person (or horses for that matter). It can only be used to transport the characters to a place that the possessor of the sword has been to previously and its total distance limit is 5 miles radius of the sword bearer's current location.


Moriels light (2 Slots OOB)
The Blade of Kinslayer has a small compliment of sorcery embedded within it which allows for the spells Dawn's Early Light and Darkness of Neversummer (the polar opposite of Dawn's Early Light spell with all the same restrictions) thrice per day as refreshing charges. These spells grant the sword the ability to create a soft light or to suck light and create darkness.

Universal Tongue (1 Slot OOB)
This particular weapon grants the possessor the ability to cast a Rare linguistic spell Universal Tongue's (up to thrice a day). Universal Tongue allows the character to SPEAK in the same language they are hearing and the ability to understand the language as Tongues does.

History:
The wind sang softly upon the branches of the snow-covered tree-tops, deep within the bowels of the shadowy forest. The land, now with the pure, cold soft touch of father winter, remained peaceful at it was. Darkness was befalling the land, as the sun was nigh on setting itself, giving place to the no-moon. Amidst the nature sounds, such as the silent night stalking predators and the occasional scream, the old druid came to seat himself upon the long-dead log. His two companions, a mage and another druid, his apprentice, were busying themselves as they started the fire and prepared the meal to their Master. The old man, sighted softly and quietly took a small book from his pouch. The cover of the book was made out of leather and a leave was tied to the page, as another marked the page he was to read tonight. The others kept preparing the meal and silently, the time past by. Warmed by the warm caressing touch of the flames, the recently hunted boar rotated faintly, allowing his skinned body to be cooked. The scent of roasted flesh and spices would come to fill the group’s nostrils, as the three gathered about the warmth. “…Well then, let us resume with your lesson shall we?” Said the old raspy voice of the human druid. Blessed by ages of knowledge, the man would cross his legs under him, and smile warmly towards his two most favored students. The young druid, still not touched by nature, nodded whole-heartedly, and the mage smiled faintly nodding as well. The two were disparate to say the least, but both displayed the eagerness to know more about nature, and, ultimately about magic and its source. The sound of flesh being cooked was followed by a slow, steady sound of thin goat sheets being scuffled, as the elder moved towards the page he had marked sometime before. A small black leaf marked the place, and silently, the wise elder took it, slipping it within his pocket. “…In your quest to join Unigo, you’ll find that magic can be used by many, in many different ways and guises. You’ll see the brave warrior rushing forth to get himself healed while I nthe heat of battle. You will heard of the tales that sometimes are whispered amongst spirits, as to what happens within the Chamber where the Temple’s Shamans perform their Rituals. You will hear many things. And many more are still yet to be made my children.” The Elder smiled and looked towards his book. “…One of such magic wanders if the magical blade, know simply as the Kinslayer.” His gaze turned towards the students, and predictably the two were filled with interest. Such thirst for knowledge filled the Old teacher’s lips into a warm smile, as he continued. “…Its origins are unknown, even to those wiser. Only the bearer knows, and the one who offered him the weapon, our Lord Storm Bringer.” He paused briefly, smiling, as he’d change the heavely drawn page, onto a more in depth description. “...The jet black blade is filled with arcane runes, which shine with the sentience of our holiest magical knowledge. Its sentience is not given to it by a soul, but rather developed by the magic energies captive within the blade’s surface. The runes glow with a large amount of tones and colours, which accompany its foul mood. The weapon seems to distaste other magical users, and seems to be gifted with the ability to perform incredibly powerful offensive abilities, although the defensive abilities of its wielder are heavily undermined, at best.” He smiled faintly, as he kept n reading the sacred texts, he himself had erected so long ago. “…The weapon’s name, along with its preference for a dark elven bearer, may be use to shed some light about a rumoured origin. Perhaps the Elvenkind forged it during their breach of species, using it to defend those that came to reside within the bowels of the earth.others sugest the weapon was crafted by a celestial being, and passed down onto the land dwelling community as a gift… Or as a means to an end. The true story lies within the hands of our beloved Emperor, as he was the one to gift the sword to our Lord Elthorion. Its story remains secret within the two powerful beings.” The old human took a soft pause, as he smiled. “…I have never seen such a wonderfully described weapon before. I found all this within the libraries of our Magical Academy, Unigo. And I expect the two of your to look over it again, and find what I did not..” He smiled and looked towards the book, continuing. “…The magical essence is trapped within a black blade, covered with arcane runes, and wonderfully crafted from the darkest pits of despair and hatred. The darkness of its mood spreads to the darkness of its deeply alluring nature, as such befits a powerful sword. Roughly the size of a great sword, it is probably wielded in the same way, in theory that is. It includes some minor magical blessings, being able to caste a few powers, adding to its versatility. The true extent of which powers as yet to be discovered.” The elder added, as he sealed the book. “…this is your task now, my students. The two of you are expected to run a throught research upon the Library to find more information and bring it to me.” The man smiled and looked towards the roasted meat. He hadn’t told them everything he knew, but this way, he’d let them learn on their own about the sword. He was more of a guide than a teacher, and thus, he allowed himself the right to be sketchy, at best. The students nodded silently, knowing their teacher’s ways, and allowed themselves to begin the feast. It would be night soon, and more rituals were yet to be performed, as they fed silently.

The Horns of Drighten

Owned By: Unowned

Type of Item: Armor

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
The Horns of the Drighten is a uniquely crafted ram’s horned helmet in which the powers of several tribal leaders’ spirits have been infused. This exquisitely crafted helm appears to be made from a collection of various metals and bone fragments. The facial shield is that of a stylized skull of a humanoid in which the eye sockets appear to reflect one of the four basic elements dependent on the mood of the wearer.

Powers:
Drighten’s Strength (2 Slots Combat)
The Drighten often earns his position by their great strength and feat in combat. Title is awarded to those who have the power to take what they want and defend what is theirs. The Drighten’s skill with the blade and superior strength lends him the ability to use two handed weapons with one hand. If two swords are used at once as a result of this ability, the standard restriction of one attack per round is still in play; if two swords are used as a result of this ability in conjunction with a skill to attack twice within the same round, then stamina is doubled on the second attack with the second weapon.

Drighten’s Zeal (4 Slots OOB)
A Drighten’s strength comes only from those willing to follow him. Through deed or title, a Drighten knows to keep disciples happy in order to continue to be their leader. As a result, the helm was created with the gift to re-energize troops when they start to fade in spirit from combat. Injuries and fatigue no longer bothers the disciples as they yearn to fight on for their leader for the next conflict.

Mechanics:
Those who fight for the wearer of this helm or do their bidding can be healed and/or given stamina at the cost of the wearer’s statistics. For ever point of health or stamina given, the wearer of the helmet loses 2 life or stamina accordingly. The life or stamina lost cannot be regained by magical means and requires rest to rejuvenate the wearer to full statistics. No more than 25% of the troop’s max life or stamina can be regained by this mean. This can only be done OOB and after a conflict.

Drighten’s Transport (4 Slots OOB)
This teleportation ability allows the wearer of the helm to shift up to five people or objects equivalent to a humanoids size to a place of their choosing not including the wearer of the helm. It requires prior OOC consent; those who do not give consent are left behind. It costs 1 LFE and 1 STA per person per mile moved, including the wearer, up to five miles total. This cannot be done while in combat or to remove someone from a combat situation.

Drighten’s Regeneration (2 Slots OOB)
Being the leader of men, the Drighten becomes the main target on the battlefield. As a result, the blessing of the horned helm allows elemental energies to be transferred into healing energies. Though this is not immediate healing, it is a natural healing process in which flesh and tissues mends itself while at rest. Due to healing nature of the helm, it is said that those who have worn the Helm in the past have enjoyed unnaturally longer lives, the last owner having been rumored to survive over 200 winters, fit and vigorous up until his demise..

Mechanics: While wearing the helmet and not in battle, the body is more able to mend itself with whatever natural elements are nearest. The bodies natural healing is increased up to 40%, taking care of all minor wounds, scratches and gashes - the body is also stronger, able to cope more easily with illness or purge natural toxins that may have been ingested. The strengthened constitution and increased self-healing will often stop or slow down the natural break down that occurs during the aging process, lengthening a human's natural lifespan anywhere from a few years up to an additional 50% the normal time frame. This does not stop old-age, or death from violent means. For those of non-human lifespans, the effect might be less noticeable, extending the time frame anywhere from a few short years, up to 25% more. It by no means regenerates lost limbs, nor is the healing ever immediate to stop a life-threatening wound. In the course of a full eight hours of uninterrupted rest, barring injuries of a grave nature, the individual will be fully rejuvenated in life and stamina.

History:
Drightens… Chieftains… Warlords… Leaders of Men… all known by various titles all hold to the same principles: Command and Conquer. The strategy of battles, the maneuvering of units, and the charisma to lead is not a trait commonly shared by many. Sha`ra, a barbarian witch of unknown clan, sought to capture these qualities and instill them into her son who was the product of a vicious moriel’s lust. Sha`ra wanted nothing more than her son to be the man who conquered the moriels from the surface and banish them back to the depths of the earth where they rightfully
belonged.

Sha`ra’s gift with the spirit world led her to many ancestral tribal leaders. Enticing these spirits, she captured their souls from the underworld and infused them into the Horned Helm which would give her son the knowledge of Kings, Warlords, and Generals. This amazingly worked well and her son took on the knowledge of the ancestors to achieve greatness. However, his greatness became arrogance and greed. Ultimately, the helmet was his downfall.

Having pushed the moriels deep into their caverns, he grew lax in maintaining the mind of his men. As a result, his errors of establishing camp and not tending to his own men’s needs led to a mutiny. All the knowledge of the ancestors did not teach him how to be a good individual and as a result, his own men took the head of Sha`ra’s son. The helmet, with head still inside, was sent back to the witch’s hovel where she grieved. Cradling his decapitated head, she sought to exact vengeance against those who committed the mutiny and sent the helm into Nanthalion. There it would be found simply sitting on the Might Makes Right shelf waiting to be purchased…. where the next man’s fate was soon to be determined

Unholy Rage

Owned By: kyrspeth anwar

Type of Item: Weapon

Equipment Slots Used: 1

Description:
Halberd

Powers:
Unholy Demeanor:

Zynemon's imbued spirit within the halberd makes this item's personality volatile and aggresive, its burden never lifting off the owner's mind once it has bonded with them. Zynemon's courage as well as fury in the face of battle influence the owner who carries this halberd, often given them a false confidence that they are as invincible as Zynemon was in his days of glory. It forces the owner to never fear accepting a duel and even goes far enough to seek combative superiority over those who act with hostility towards the owner. Though it does not influence the owner to act recklessly it does enrage them during combat, enough to see it through with relentless determination.

The owner must bond with the item to be able to use it; even so the spirit within is not tamed or subdued but rather a compromise is reached that allows it to be taken up. The bonding ritual must be performed with three days of fasting at Zynemon's homeland of Lycaedon on the death anniversary of his fall (OOC: This should be done by writing a quest by the player detailing their search for Lycaedon, their journey, experiences along the way and the actual ceremony performed). Once the item has bonded with the owner, the bond must be renewed each year to maintain its trust (requiring the owner to perform the pilgrimage once each year).

The spirit within does not tolerate the halberd to be touched by fools' hands. An ordinary person curious enough to touch this weapon would get a discouraging shock - ~Spirit Damage~, permanently activated dealing 10 temporary LFE damage to the thief everytime it is touched this damage fades at 1 ever 10 mins a post after a hour of no touching it (not to be confused with the 12 damage from successful strikes during combat).

Unholy Spirit:
The imbued spirit of Zynemon acts as an enchantment would for a special spell ~Spirit Damage~ on anyone who has access to the divine sphere. This hidden spirit deals an additional 12 points of LFE damage on successful strikes with the weapon. this only worksvs clerics and priest/ress

Mechanics:
Add 12 to the damage of a 1d50 roll when this halberd is done when used against any cleric and priest/ess.

Unholy Aura:
The object itself seems to give off a evil aura it will always give off a aura of evil. this aura seems almost tangable to anyone who can use the divine sphere.. the aura gives no benifits.

Zynemon's Rage:
the items spirit. which is always seem seem be in a rage.. always seems drive the owner towards raging.. the owner will always seem to explode into anger... the owner must roll 1dint. if they do not get 45 + they will do rage. and not think.

History:
In the elder days, before the mortal races grew populous and their progeny covered the lands, other races of ancient descendants of the Gods walked the earth of Belariath, as did the Gods that they served. These were not without their power and when mortal races were struggling to survive in their infantile stages, small states of such beings were powerful in the land, though gradually as the Gods themselves left the world and the divinity within their blood left their veins, they became as one with the mortals, their bloodlines diluted, their days became numbered, and their numbers few. One of the last of these states to see such an end was the state of Lycaedon, inhabited by a race of warrior-people, beautiful as the elves and the nymphs, yet stronger and leaner than the mightiest of wolven, and in tone and hue indeed they seemed similar to the Dark Elves of today, though it would be many millenia before that race would emerge. They were mighty at arms and adept with magic and though they inhabited a clump of small islands their reach in their ships was far and wide. They wielded cruel blades surpassingly sharp and swift that in latter days to come would be known as Namatas and Kinjato. They wore ornate helms with fearsome warrior faces crafted into them. Those they slew would be later burnt by their people lest they rise to haunt those they once fought alongside. Legend states that Kirva was herself one of the chiefest among the captains and lieutenants in Lycaedon, and though such heresay is suspect, how the dark beauty of the Moriel came to be captured in the newest creations might have its roots in Lycaedon. Zynemon was among the foremost of these God-Kings, a grim, sadistic, desperate and suspicious demi-God. He reigned at a time when there were few Godly powers upon the earth, and while few could oppose him, he was aware of powers among the people from above as the Gods conspired to remove this imbalance from the world. A brilliant strategist and a paragon of warfare, Zynemon led raids and attacks amidst the thick of armies, slaying his enemies where he went, his halberd steaming with blood as those he slew rose up to battle alongside him. His success was nigh unparalleled. During his reign Lycaedon started to expand, leaving its island roots and actually establishing considerable forces along the mainlands. An elder race led by one of the last remaining demi-Gods upon the earth, backed by necromantic powers, they looked a nigh unstoppable force. Zynemon himself was peerless in combat, and surrounded himself at all times with a strong guard, and his paranoia was arguably greater than his power, so much so it seemed nigh impossible to remove this threat. Zynemon had a weakness though, and though no mortals knew about it, the Gods did and in form they came to the beleaguered races. Together they each gave of their gifts and counsel to the mortals. The druids of the land came together with the necromancers and the priests, devising a poison that would at least bring Zynemon close to death, and at the same time they learned of his child, one Kheilian, who was the exact opposite of Zynemon. He was mage and a necromancer, and though one still young and inexperienced, the divinity flowing in his blood made him by no means a weak foe, and he was practically the only one allowed to go near Zynemon. The mages and necromancers gathered themselves together waiting for an opportune chance when Kheilian's mind was searching the twisting realms of magic in search of greater and darker powers, that he may some day be more than equal to his father's strength. There they ensnared him with spells of dark weaving, promising power and strength from above, and the Gods were with them in lending strength to the dark promises. But Kheilian was not so easily taken, something in his mind warned him of treachery, and his will wrestled with them. It was said that some of the number of mages broke from that place, either falling away into deep faint, fleeing away in horror or the worst among them, went gibbering out, his mind completely twisted and broken. Nonetheless after a struggle, the Gods themselves intervened, and together they mastered the will of Kheilian, bending him to their will. It was but a simple matter for the poison to reach into his hands and Kheilian brewed a potent potion of dark, unholy power, and mixing the poison in, presented it to Zynemon as a token of his goodwill. The bonds of kinship between both father and son were strong among the Gods, and Zynemon knew enough to know the potion was what it was, and took it upon himself, knowing that not only would it strengthen him, it would extend his power even beyond his death. In his arrogance he was not cautious enough though, and as the poison coursed through his veins and he felt his strength weakening from him, he cursed his own foolishness and stood up in a rage, raising his halberd to slay his son. Kheilian however had calculated upon this, the potion he had brewed himself using its effect, for while in his normal self he would have been loathe to break the bond of kinship with his father, his lust for power had been inflamed and with words of power he completed the enchantment. His enemies desired the complete destruction of his father, but he knew he did not, and Zynemon cried out as, weakened, he was unable to withstand the pull of the spell, channeling his very being and essence into the halberd that he was holding in a necromantic ritual. In that moment, he could have resisted, hurled the halberd away and have fallen upon the earth, his power lost forever... but he did not, and so it was that Zynemon slumped down before his child, the light dimming from his eyes, before it was lost for all time. Something in Kheilian writhed in horror as he felt what he had done, but the spell of the enemy was too strong, overwhelming the better part of his mind. Seizing upon the halberd, he felt the power of Zynemon within, now his to wield. Kheilian struggled with the huge weapon, unable to lift it, until he felt an unholy strength surge through him, breathing power into his frame, and he hoisted it up, facing the body guard who were surging towards him in outrage. He was their king now, and their God, and upon his challenge, they backed away. And as agreed, he bore the halberd, fresh with the might of his father within, to his foes. Ostensibly as a sign that his father was dead, but something in him knew rage at being chained to their will, forced to do what they wanted him to, and he knew he would not be sated until he saw to their dead and cold bodies. And so Kheilian came to them in the dark of the night, bearing the halberd of his father, as proof of his deed, or so they gathered, for they believed that if Kheilian plotted against them, his will alone was not enough to hide from them, those who controlled his mind with spells, his true intention. And as they gathered, Kheilian unveiled the halberd... and in that moment, they knew. They realised it was a trap, to get his back at them as Kheilian gave a cold laugh and brandished the huge blade, powerful and thirsting for blood. Nonetheless, they yet had a hold on his mind and combining their wills, with even the voice of Gaea from above, sought to bear down on the bloodthirsty will of this child of a demi-God. They wrestled, and it seemed that they would best him, before loud roar of rage, as that of thunder, split the night, a voice familiar and known upon the battle field, the voice of Zynemon. Kheilian shuddered, feeling not just power flowing from the halberd, but the spirit of his father howling out in rage and anger and vengeance, and the bond of their minds upon him fled. Grim rage and remorseless fury bubbled up from within him, and in that moment, his knowledge of necromancy and spells all but left him. Strength and skill from beyond poured into his veins, the same power that already had a place in his blood, stoking him into a blood frenzy as he launched himself at his opponents. Shocked beyond measure, they were unable to resist the combined strength of father and son together, and all were slaughtered there upon that place. Kheilian emerged victorious, but not for long. The strength left him as suddenly as it came, and finally he thought with a clear mind. Rage and remorse over took him, as remorse plunged like a dagger into his heart, and he wept for having slain his father, who he had looked up to above almost all else. But then he was deep in the territory of the enemy, and it was not long before they came upon him. Heeding the voice of his father within his mind, or perhaps from the weapon, he took up the halberd once more and slew his way out from among them, and as he slew he raised them up from the ground. An unholy rage seemed to fill his being, and instead of making his way out of the enemy territory, Kheilian raised more and more of them and led by the spirit of Zynemon, made to exterminate the army that had been ranged against them, once and for all. Dawn came. Kheilian staggered up on a hill, surveying the land about him. Behind him, swathes of destruction, skeletal minions hacking away at what was left of the segment of the mortal armies. In his hand, the weapon of his father, and he looked out ahead of him. Something stirred on the horizons, and he saw, as they did, armies of cavalry coming down towards where he was. Something had gone wrong, he knew, there were other armies.. and they had been waiting till day to make out the position of their foe. Cavalry... no not just those, but Centaurs. The mortal races, bearing down towards his location. Kheilian felt his heart break a little, with anger and disappointment, and he withdrew back, towards his makeshift undead army, and they fled for their encampment. He felt laughter from above as the Gods made pawns of men, like those mages, to slay their betters, and pawns of himself too... the rage of his father seething through his hands, the grief of his blood flowing in his veins. Kheilian withdrew to the foothold that Lycaedon had upon the shoreline, as they dug in for a siege, wielding his father's halberd upon the field. But in a matter of days he saw the encampment give way, the men unwilling to rally about him, especially as they had known how he had slain his father shamefully. Kheilian finally stood upon the shore, overseeing the withdrawal back onto their ships to their state, and looking back at the invading army destroying the remnants of their establishment, and he made his way back onto the ship. As he walked up the gangway, a sharp stab of pain shot up his arm, and he drew back, stung, as the strength seemed to leave him. A sharp cry of agony and he fell upon the gangway, the halberd slipping from his nerveless fingers and falling into the water seeming without so much as a splash, only felt in the fury of his father, the frustrated anger hammering on the insides of his head, of having lost... unwilling to retreat. Gathering his breath as he staggered to his feet, Kheilian made to dive into the water, but as he did so an arrow from the shore struck him in the chest, and he fell down upon the gangway. His men quickly brought him back in and the ships hurriedly left shore as flurries of fiery siege weapons broke the sea around thme, and magic streamed about them. Kheilian would survive and continue to reign as king of Lycaedon, but the grief and regret never left him. He would try many times again to assault the land, and though he met with success, he could never re-establish the foothold his father had, and in his long searches, he never found the power or the soul of his father. During and after his time, Lycaedon came to be in decline, and eventually dispersed into disunited islands. As for Zynemon's halberd, in it his Unholy Rage, it was lost to all intents and purposes, from all lore of the mortals.

Weave of Mirrors

Owned By: Matwyn

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
An unremarkable cloak

Powers:
Mimicry of Form and Shape (2 Slots - Combat)

Crafted and imbued by the power of several of the best in the arts of shape shifting and form changing, this ability was manipulated till it became the pinnacle of mimicry powers. Allowing the bearer of the item to take on an almost perfect copy of one that they are watching and have spent time in study. This doesn't allow for voice mimicry, it is simply a mimicry of the victim's form, for whatever the bearer chooses to do with their new form.

Mechs - By expenditure of ten stamina points, the wielder of this item can take on the form of another that either the have studied with their own eyes for a period of at least two hours, or they hold a personal item of that person. Once they call this ability into effect, they shift form to that of the one that they want to appear to be, becoming that person in essence. They will assuming shape, form and feel of the person required. They will not be able to sound like that person, unless they have another ability or effect to allow such. Detect magick will show magickal effects around the person, but will not say that it is a change in shape. If the bearer of this item is reduced to 0 life then this ability is cancelled immediately. Once activated, the stamina can't be regained till the ability is canceled. Explicit OOC consent from the player of the one being mimicked by this ability. Lasts till end of scene. This ability does not grant any of the spells, racial abilities or other special abilities of the person being studied.

Mimicry of Voice (3 Slots)

Crafted as an addition to the manipulation of form ability that lay within this item, this ability allows for the almost perfect duplication of anothers voice, that has been heard and studied upon. This ability doesn't allow for mimicry of form and shape, it is simply a mimicry of the victim's voice, for whatever the bearer of this item chooses to do with it.

Mechs - By expenditure of five stamina points, the wielder of this item can take on the voice of another that that either the have studied and listened with their own ears for a period of at least two hours, or they hold a personal item of that person. Once they call this ability into effect, their voice becomes that of the one that they have studied and want to duplicate. They will assume tone and pitch of the person. This does not allow them to look like another, and will not grant the behavior patterns of the other, only the duplication of how the target sounds. Once activated the stamina spent on this can't be regained till the ability is canceled. Explicit OOC consent from the player of the one being mimicked by this ability. Lasts till end of scene. Out of Battle Only. This ability does not grant any of the spells, racial abilities or other special abilities of the person being studied.


Manipulation of Mimicry (3 Slots)

This ability was created to allow one to allow those normal shape changing spells to be used upon a person who is has been subjected to the Mimicry of Form and Shape or Mimicry of Voice, or in extreme cases to allow those shape altering spells to be cast upon another for amusement or other reasons.

Mechs - This ability costs costs three stamina per spell used to manipulate the form of the bearer. This cost overwrites the normal cost of such spells. Once activated, the stamina spent upon such a shifting of form can't be regained till this ability is canceled. Limited to - Change Self, Swap Gender, Hair Growth, Fuzzy Tail. Those spells can also be cast upon another person, this ability allowing that manipulation of anothers form to a certain extent. This ability costs 5 stamina per spell used, and the stamina used to cast these spells can't be regained till this ability is canceled. These effects last till end of scene only. OOC consent required.Out of Battle Only.

Manipulation of Perception (4 Slots - OOB)

This ability allows the bearer to cloud the perceptions of others, allowing them to dictate what form they appear to the rest of the world if they so desire, appearing to be one of the many races, whilst in fact still being themselves in reality, only the viewers minds adjusting what they see of the bearer of this item.

Mechs - This ability cost 3 stamina to use, which is not reclaimable whilst the ability is in effect. Once the ability is cast, the bearer of the item will appear to be a member of a specific race to all that see them. They will have their normal basic features, but will appear to be the race in question instead of their own natural race. This isn't a true change, just a shift of perceptions, so wings and tails on the image will not work, unless the bearer of this item already has wings, or tails or a way to fly to complete the illusion. Out of combat only. Should combat start whilst this effect is in place, then it will fade instantly. Lasts till end of scene or for 24 hours or until cancelled. If a character wishes to try and resist this ability to see the true form, then a roll of Casters Int vs Targets Res is required.

History:
The Weave of mirrors was crafted many century's ago long before the tower of unigo was split in two, before the original tower itself. The item was a project of one of the earlier schools of arcane invention. Its name forgotten the Weave its' only legacy of there craft, a silvery Mirror like cloak that possessed extraordinary property's of change and mimicry. Into its Creations various dark and deceptive magics were used, wing, of pixie, purest mercury, mocking bird throats, and many a chameleons heart, went into the alchemical process, the weave heavily enchanted, and stretched out into its cloak form by skilled tailors, weavers and workers of spider silks. The weave itself had been commissioned by an ancient moriel thief of much acquired wealth over her lifetime though getting on in years spells starting to fail her.

The crafting of the weave took naught but a decade to hone and perfect before the trophy was given to the matron, whom promptly had the creators slain one by one in there beds, homes family's, as was passing moriel tradition and hobby, claiming it fully as her own, to her dismay though it would only copy one in recent close proximity, though nearly flawless without magical detection, only vaguely acquiring shapes from memory's longer then a day, she made due. spending the rest of her years, killing tricking thieving, a tradition dark elven retirement, the cloak passing from matron to matron before her house was smashed, and the cloak lost to history surfacing now and again, to the lucky , be they thief hedonist of madman looking for the exotic laugh.

Whispers of Tilresh

Owned By: Ray`El

Type of Item: Device

Equipment Slots Used: 0

Description:
This mithril ring is a solid piece of metal, looking old and tarnished; it does not belay the power that is inside it. It often seems to fade to a mark on the user, and often the user has unexplained marks and tattoos all over them due to the whisper’s influence.

Powers:
Whispers of the Art (2 Slots OOB)
Sometimes the ability to be hidden, to do something while being watched, is better then the most powerful of attacks. With this ring, the owner may use the powers of the arcane or the mystical while directly looking into someone else’s face. The Ring will supplant the need for some spell mechanics, but the owner may still need to do small motions and say soft works beneath their breath, or hide them within a conversation. This ability is designed be used outside of the realm of combat.

Mech : Works like subtle caress. They may cast with a softness of voice, or more subtle gestures that will allow them a chance of having their acts go unnoticed by those who are their prey. The roll is a simple, using the owner of the item’s INT vs. INT and the higher roll wins. If the Owners' roll is higher, then he goes unnoticed, or his spell casting/skill use is undetected, whichever best applies; If the others wins, they notice the soft touches have hidden spark. OOB Only.

Whispers of Passion (3 Slots OOB)
Whispering to a target, the caster can put their victim into a light trance, leaving them subdued or open to the magic to take effect. The user can then make their target obsessed with something; a single thing, making them so passionate for it, they chase and follow it and want it as if their life depends on it. It can sometimes maneuver someone for many reasons or purposes.

Mech : this ability costs 10 Stamina and can be used three times in 1 week. This ability can last at most up to Five days. A roll of 1d5 determines the time limit. Like obsession, this must have HEAVY OOC talks, consent and agreements, as well as consent. The user however, can cancel it earlier if they wish, allowing the same ability to last just a few Hours, or a few days rather than the full range.

Whispers of the Person (7 slots OOB)
The User of the item can cast a spell which will affect themselves or others. The spell works similar to change self; however it is more potent and controlled, allowing the user to change its target to appear as anything he wishes, race, gender and many other factors. It even lets them appear as something from his darkest dreams, nightmares. Thou the spell has a few limits. It only can affect a sentient creature and cannot change them into a non-living item such as a door, an animal or to copy a specific person. They can look similar enough to pass for someone from a distance. They also cannot hide themselves from other senses, just change what they are.

Mechanics:
This ability costs 10 stamina to use on one self and double the use on one other. The power lasts for one scene and can for double the stamina last a whole day, which can be doubled affect another also. Though any use of the power can be ended earlier if owner of the item wish's it. The magic allows them to change their race, size, shape and blend or create features. Anything from their darkest fantasy's to the allowed races within Belariath. It can change the race, but cannot grant any abilities of the race, except adding, subtracting or mixing the extremities known to that particular race for cosmetic purposes. Wings do not grant the ability to fly unless the target has the fly spell, and adding gills will allow for the ability to breath underwater. It can change the gender, the appearance of weight and height in subtle contexts, eye-color, and hair color, enough to appear similar to someone else but not exactly. The target can never be made smaller than the smallest playable race of Belariath, or larger. (when in pixie/fae form, all racial rules involving sex apply) This requires OOC consent to use on someone else and a Talk to of Heavy consent.

History:
The legend of the Whispers of Tilresh is an old one, and depending where you ask it, the exact details vary, as old legends go. The name of the original wearer is lost, as was his exact station in life, but what all tales agree on was that he was both a powerful mage, and a devout follower of Tilresh. What his rank as is unknown, some say he was once a lowly pleasure slave, others say he was a powerful mage from a young age. All agree that he had always stayed away from the lethal Moriel politics, giving himself wholly to the worship of Tiresh, tasting all the tastes the Nethergloom had to offer.

Yet it wasn't enough. Hearing tales of what was up there, the mage decided he wouldn't contend himself with the little teasers that made their way, broken and chained, into the Nethergloom. He wanted it all. So, without need or banishment, he left the darkness, into the light he went, searching not glory, or riches, or fleeing politics. No, he left only to find new pleasures. For a while, he was a slaver and proprietor of a traveling brothel, freely savoring his own merchandise, and it was said the mistresses of the great houses waged wars over having him visit a celebration, and that the priests of Ishtar looked for him, begging to be allowed to be part of his caravan.

And yet, eventually, that too bored him. So, having learned quite a few spells to disguise himself, he one night left the caravan and all his responsibilities without a word, traveling on his own, wanting to experience all without anything to hold him back. Since he traveled alone and often in disguise, there's next to no official records, and many of the legends are likely erotic fancies, or maybe not. They say the man spend two years as a a female fuck toy to a wolven pack. They say he joined a Chirot raid; to rape the Torian with the vigor hate can give. They say he wore a hundred collars, held a thousand leashes and tasted all life could cover.

Yet the story says it never was enough. Practical issues got in the way, the bodies and minds of his partners never seemed to quite match up to his fantasies. And so, one day, he bought a castle, his wealth the stuff of legends now, and started purchasing slaves, as well as hiring trainers. Paintings have been made to try to describe the den of pleasure that the man made, of all races, of all genders. Many of them sought out, or even trained to be exactly what the man wanted them to be. Harsh, dominating pixies, well muscles barbarian warlords carefully turned into sex slaves, chaste and shy ogre ladies who were kept virgin to be raped. It was almost a city in itself, sealed off from the outside world, dedicated only to pleasure. Yet, during the years and decades it took to built it, the legends said, the lustful Moriel remained celibate.

And then, one night, the guards opened the door to bring another delivery of food and found... nothing. From the most luxuriously palatial places to the cruelest dungeon, there was not a simple person being seen. Traces were about of an orgy of rarely seen before intensity, yet no trace remained of the master of the house, or any of the slaves, lovers, victims and masters that had been in there. It was in the center of the complex, in the temple to Tiresh, that something was found. The room was drenched in the mix of female and male juices, yet no body was found inside. Only this ring. The guards, of course, immediately started to loot the palace, one of them daring to take on the ring.

Five days later, when priests of Tiresh, guided by wet dreams, entered the place, they found that the guards had never left the place; The guard who had taken the ring had turned it upon his own fellow guards, and enjoyed the good life of having a harem of willing eager cat girls, and quite a few boys as well, and he himself had taken the form of a large, well endowed wolven.

The priests were quite surprised when they too, were suddenly cat girls, eager to please the master wolven. However, while the ring gave the guard magical powers, they didn't give him the endurance to keep up with priests of Tiresh, and soon fell into unconsciousness under their care, allowing the priests to retrieve the ring. Since then, the ring has been fading in and out of history, usually finding tis way to those of a suitable... mindset.