An elfin warrior from a fallen house.
An open room lay before them, occupied only by a few cobwebs and dust. Upon entering, a phrase is seen on one wall. One of them utters the phrase out of wonder for its meaning, unknowingly activating the room. An eye opens on the wall in front of the poor souls and with a quick flash of light, the last thing heard from the room is heart retching screams... then silence.
This item is not listed in many tombs of magic, nor is it detailed in any text books among the arcane. It is however sung about in many a tavern and bar across the coastal cities. The tale is sung more about the man who created it. His tale has been embellished time and again until he seemed more a god than the coward that he was.
One morning, the sun does not rise. It seems that a great darkness has settled across the kingdom - at first, it is merely an inconvenience, but as time passes and plants begin to sicken and die, some action must be taken. As the deluded King plans the sacrifice of fifty tender virgins in the name of the Sun God, rumours spread of an ancient barrow uncovered in the hills...