The Shadestone of Kormak

Originally thought to open the tomb where the body of Shivenhusk's mother was laid to rest, it helps Kormak control the minions of Shivenhusk and allows him to spread his dark power like a plague. Kormak is never more than a hands width apart from the staff, clutching it more like a babe to the breast than a simple piece of wood and metal.

It was forged through wicked arts of metal craft and necrotic rituals in a furnace filled by the souls of the dead. The shaft is six feet of carved bone, pieced together from the spine of Kormak's most faithful followers. The symbols carved into the polished vertebrate are alarming and confusing, seeming to confound the minds eye before recognition is allowed to set it. It is as if they are seen through a vial filled with murky water. The center piece, an oddity as it doesn't give the appearance of anything necrotic, sits atop the spinal staff as a lorgnette would. But the crystal within is blood red and pulsing as if an eye being pumped with the lifeblood, or the spirits, of those it has consumed.

I once saw it strike a cult member full in the chest, not a physically powerful blow, but one that sent the poor fool spinning and reeling in agony. I watched as his soul, wistful and silently screaming was pulled from the body and wrenched into the staff. The body lay dormant for some time, silent and smoldering slightly where it's soul had singed as it escaped the now lifeless corpse. Yet, as my own eyes defied what I saw, the body rose up, jerking shakily in an unnatural manner and moved to Kormak's side. Steadily getting smoother in its motions the more it moved, until its gait was that of a predatory animal. Silent and smooth like running water. I feared to retch as I was afraid it would draw its attention to me. It then moved as a faithful lion, stalking to the corner where others of its kind stood in mute silence, awaiting further commands from their master.

Then I knew his power. He was not a simple leader of a death cult, but one of Shivenhusk's honored commanders that could wield the power of the undead more like a demi-god and not a mortal. He truly is Shivenhusk's favorite. He covets its' proximity as a lover would, whispers to it. Almost as if he can see and hear Shivenhusk Himself through the vile lens.