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.
A typical iron ore mine, the Irongate was closed some years ago and the entrance was closed off with a heavy gate of oak and thick iron bands, the Irongate. The mine itself was abandoned because it was a breeding ground for dire rats and many of the miners suffered from giant rodent bites as well as diseases from said bites. The mines are haunted by the ghosts of the men who died in dire rat swarms, adding to the mine's unpleasant character.