Made for a brave adventurer by a spurned lover, every chain was lovingly crafted with iron and locks of her hair. The finished armor was polished with tears and blood till her final days...
BEWARE all who dare wear this chainmail...
Hammered from Stygian steel and inlaid with demonbone and bejeweled with demon jade and black diamonds, the blackest of blackguards are filled with lust and envy to possess this armor
Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.
Ogelend, Border Reiver
Those who wear this item are usually laughed at and scorned for its appearance at first. It looks odd adorning the head of any warrior as it always seems a little too small and its thin strap that secures it in place seems far to fragile and loose to keep it in place when worn in a melee. However, when the wake of its powers catches up to those who scorn, their attitudes and lives change abruptly. The knowledge about this helm is vague but throughout history, events of a chaotic nature seem to follow in the path of this item, sowing the seeds of disorder and discord. However it is when all four of these set items are found and placed together, does true havoc reign.
Few things are more important to a warrior than to ensure that his… coddes… are well protected, and Red Hatchet was no exception…
This item has been moved about the lands throughout the ages, lost and found by various people. Always it seems that the unsuspecting are the usual and unfortunate ones to find them. It is vague but throughout history events of misfortune and chaotic nature seem to follow in the path of this item, sowing the seeds of disorder and discord. However it is when all four of these set items are found and placed together, does anarchy truly reign.
Among the more annoying items that has been discovered among the ancient ruins. The “Chainmail of Forgetfulness” has plagued the minds of heros galore for many years past.
The wristbands look ordinary. Sure, they may be a couple centuries old, but they weren’t iron. They were another, magical metal, and they were strong enough to stop even the biggest sword, if you’re fast enough. But they also draw the attention of another, who will hound you to your grave.
Fallu the Sorceress summoned Smile Frown, the Laughing Demon, who chuckled and said to her…
Will certainly not be suspected, a bad luck charm for everyone around.
The players see a small shrine to the local nature deity just of the trail. Before they even approach it, they can smell the foul stench of rotting meat. If they inspect the shrine, they can see it has been desecrated by rotting organs in the last few days. There is no mistaking it for an obscure ritual, the organs are thrown everywhere, not left in specific places as in sacrifice.
If the players try to clean the shrine, they will soon find it has been boobytrapped to fling sharp splinters covered in the rotting gore in every direction. While only doing a few points of damage, they injured players will likely take sick soon unless they get medical attention.
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The warrior's footfalls echoed on the cobbles. His breath steamed in the cold, frosty air. He heard the frantic movement of assailants in the shadowed alley shuffling to surround him.
The warrior laughed. It was a bitter, dry laugh. "It won't do you any good. I feel no pain. Prepare to meet Balor."