One could hardly think that a sewing needle could be anything sinister. After all, it's nothing but a pointed rod of metal, several inches long; it's about as mundane as one gets.

This particular needle was one of a set of twenty owned by a house-wife, several centuries ago. Her name was Ilken Lillett, and she was well respected amongst the community as a cheerful family-woman of a struggling but cheery household. Nowdays, the name Ilken Lillett is synonymous with pain and sacrifice. Ilken Lillett had a secret love for necromancy, and her life came to a point where she had to choose between her art or her family. So one night, she plunged this needle into her womb, and took the life of her own unborn child. With the needle still inside her and her child, she drew the life force of her own husband and children away, using their energy to re-animate her unborn child. This needle was discarded on the streets by her after her horrific act, but these simple, practical things such as needles have a way of being scavenged and re-used.

Lady Remkan was the first to use it. She found it on the cobblestones and collected it, cleaning off the caked-on blood in a fountain without even a thought of what the red stuff could be. It soon found its way into her sewing box with all her other needles. It lay there unused for months, before by chance, she picked it out to sew a new lining on the leather-lined gloves which her husband, Lord Remkan, wore religiously.

The evening after, when Lord Remkan returned home to his wife after a busy day of jostling peasants and scoffing with the gentry, he appeared to be drunk, he entered the kitchen and complained to his wife that the gloves she mended had become tight over the course of the day and now he couldn't remove them; his hands itched terribly! The Lady rolled her eyes and fetched a pair of scissors to snip off the gloves. When she did The Lord and Lady both screamed as - when she snipped away the fabric - the leather fell to the floor. And so did the flesh of Lord Remkan's hands. All that remained were the bones and sinew of his hands, still able to flex and squeeze, thanks to some unidentified, unholy energy.

The needle was never considered as the source of Lord Remkan's malady, and it was subsequently traded on through time, as such objects always are.

The fel energies used on the foetus the needle was implanted in leeched over into the metal of object, instilling within it some dangerous qualities; any piece of clothing made or mended by the needle will slowly rot away the flesh of any living thing it touches, over the course of a day. It will also rot wood or other organic materials. Any bone left behind will remain animated, causing the person to have become part-undead. The skin won't hurt, but it will itch while the rotting takes place.

In addition, if someone were to stab someone with this needle, their skin will begin to die slowly, radiating out from the wound. Digging away into the healthy flesh around the wound will stop this process, otherwise the victim would lose all of its flesh in a few days.

The current whereabouts of this needle are unknown. Probably laying forgotten in the sewing kit of the house-wife next door.

Possible uses

 - The enemy has built a wooden wall around their encampment... it can't be scaled! Using this needle, the infiltrators could sew a square of material to lay against the wall, rotting it over the day. Then, a good boot to the rotted area will let you in!

 - Zombie Dogs! - The party needs to find a way to scare a family out of their old manor home so it can be searched for that treasure...! One of your party happens to have this needle and an idea - Sewing a couple of suits for the dogs or stabbing them with the needle will eventuate in their flesh falling off, leaving animated skeletons of dogs - after letting a couple of these loose through a broken window, the family will be gone before their bags are packed!

 - Torture/Interrogation. 'Hah! What, you think a single little needle prick to the gut is gonna make me talk!? You're crazy!'

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