Kysek's Armored Attire
The events of this post took place when my current campaign was set in Lankhmar. While the remainder of the group traveled north in search information that will lead them to the lair of the Devourer, their mage, Romulus remained in the city to enchant items and tend to official business regarding the party's new home. The archmage spends most of his time in a tailor's shop sewing alongside the owner's apprentices. He whispers enchantments over the individual threads as he weaves them together. He becomes good friends with the tailor, a man named Chandler during this time.
These are the details of that story...
- - - - -
Romulus rises from his comfy bed at the Penetrating Pony and heads downstairs for a breakfast of fried potatoes,
bacon and bitter black coffee. He splits a beer with Bethilda and Monty before heading out to start on his daily errands. First, he follows the directions given him by Arthur and heads over to Craft Street to pay a visit to Arthur’s lawyer Marr.
Marr and Arthur sit and go through the paperwork detailing the transfer of the former temple of Tyaa to the party. They also talk about reputable contractors who can be called in to make repairs and modifications. After Romulus feels that most of the details are in order, he departs and goes over to the tailor’s shop.
Romulus rises from his comfy bed at the Penetrating Pony and heads downstairs for a breakfast of fried potatoes,
bacon and bitter black coffee. He splits a beer with Bethilda and Monty before heading out to start on his daily errands. First, he follows the directions given him by Arthur and heads over to Craft Street to pay a visit to Arthur’s lawyer Marr.
Marr and Arthur sit and go through the paperwork detailing the transfer of the former temple of Tyaa to the party. They also talk about reputable contractors who can be called in to make repairs and modifications. After Romulus feels that most of the details are in order, he departs and goes over to the tailor’s shop.
The Halfling finally reaches the store and pulls up a seat. The archmage pulls out his jeweler’s tools and a loupe. He settles in at the end of the table and picks up one of the onyx toggles and begins etching and carving mystic runes into the fastener’s surface.
The tailor’s apprentice (the one with no sense of color) watches from his spinning wheel as he turns snow snake fur into thread with a look of rapt fascination on his face as he watches Romulus work. The tailor himself is trimming pieces of Horborixen cotton to create the pattern of Kysek’s tunic while his second apprentice is mixing a batch of dye made from octopus ink and a night-blooming lotus. The mage makes slow, stumbling conversation without the aid of his magic as he engraves the symbols of protection.
The tailor’s fourth (and final) apprentice arrives with a steaming box of meat buns and a small hand keg of beer. Everyone breaks for lunch and takes turns telling tales and sharing gossip. Romulus relates stories about his apprenticeship to Wiglaf Vortigen, a former Purple Dragon Knight who took up the mantle of War Wizard after losing a leg in a battle with goblins.
Two days later…
Romulus settles in with a large bread bowl filled with cheese soup and bits of smoked sausage and bacon. The Halfling wizard, who worked late into the night, etching runes into the silver strands being woven into Kysek’s new garments, yawns and rubs his eyes. He virtually inhales the bread bowl and follows it up with seconds and washes it all down with a fine, dark beer.
The archmage reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out his pipe and some weed and packs the bowl and lights it. He takes a long draw, burps quietly and thanks Bethilda for breakfast before heading out the door with his pipe clenched in his teeth.
After skirting the marketplace in search of beads, baubles or buttons that would complement the armored attire, he reaches the tailor’s shop and swings the door open. The tailor’s sons, already hard at work on the loom and spinning wheel greet him a dozen questions as he arrives.
“What are the stars?”
“Pinholes in the curtain of night.”
“Where does the wind come from?”
“Politicians.”
“Did you fight in the war with the Rats?”
“That’s classified. I’d tell you but I’d have to kill you.”
“What’s ‘Classified” mean?”
“It means that I’m not going to tell you.”
“Are you a Black Wizard or a White Wizard?”
“What are the stars?”
“Pinholes in the curtain of night.”
“Where does the wind come from?”
“Politicians.”
“Did you fight in the war with the Rats?”
“That’s classified. I’d tell you but I’d have to kill you.”
“What’s ‘Classified” mean?”
“It means that I’m not going to tell you.”
“Are you a Black Wizard or a White Wizard?”
“I’m a …wait. What? You’re going to have to explain the difference before I can answer that.”
“A white wizard gets his or her magic from the gods. A black wizard’s magic comes from books and wands.”
“In that case, I’m both. Now...” he eyes the children critically, “if I may begin my work…”
“But how can you be bo…” the youngest apprentice begins to ask.
“A white wizard gets his or her magic from the gods. A black wizard’s magic comes from books and wands.”
“In that case, I’m both. Now...” he eyes the children critically, “if I may begin my work…”
“But how can you be bo…” the youngest apprentice begins to ask.
Suddenly, Romulus turns and stares at the child. Despite being barely taller than the tailor’s grandson’s waist, the halfling suddenly seems more … THERE, more in command. The child’s question catches in his throat and he stammers a few times before simply closing his mouth.
Romulus climbs into his seat and pulls his jeweler’s loupe out of one of his pockets and slips it over his eye. He also pulls out a set of very tiny chisels and picks and lays them out on the table in front of him. He turns to the boy and speaks softly “I’ll answer more questions when we go for lunch, but right now, I have a lot of work to do and so do you.”
The Day After That…
Romulus rises early, knowing he has an important meeting to attend. He takes a carriage over to Marr’s office to review the paperwork transferring the abandoned temple of Tyaa from the City of Lankhmar to the party. With that completed, the halfling makes a trip back to the River District and then to the temple itself. Romulus surveys the building critically and decides to go inside. He walks over to one of the boarded-over entryways and waves his hands slowly back and forth while whispering a short prayer to Silvanus, asking his god to clear the way for his servant.
The boards flex and bend, popping the nails out that hold them in place and they fall away from the doorway’s wooden frame. The halfling conjures a floating ball of light and steps into the building’s shadowy interior. Rats squeak and squeal as they flee from the diminutive mage. Bats flutter uneasily in the rafters above as Romulus’ bare feet pad quietly upon the dusty tiled floor.
The archmage works his way downstairs to inspect the cellar once more and finds that it is damp with condensation from the river. He braces himself for the pain that is sure to accompany the spell and chants the words to an arcane incantation. Stone rises up from the floor, filling in the cracks in the wall and shoring up the foundation. The mage directs the growing rock with his hands, shifting the wall to anchor it in the bedrock and the stone of the abandoned temple. The mage drops heavily to the floor, gasping for breath. He lies on the floor and staring up at the ceiling for several minutes while waiting for the pain to subside.
Romulus finally rises and fishes a scrap of parchment from one of his pockets and begins pacing off the dimensions of the room, marking each down as he goes. The archmage begins planning a trip to the local stonemasons guild to hire laborers to expand the temple’s basement.
His work completed, the halfling heads back upstairs and closes the door, sealing it with a magic word and begins the walk over to the tailor’s shop to continue weaving the enchantments into Kysek’s new clothing.
And Then the Next Day…
Romulus yawned and stretched and tried to come alive. He’d been up well after the tailor shop had closed, remaining in the store, leaned over the long workbench with his chisels inscribing tiny protective runes into the spun silver thread that is to be woven into Kysek’s new clothes. The Halfling archmage poured himself a large tankard of the hot and bitter brew Bethilda whipped up every morning to help those who had imbibed too much of the house beer the night before get motivated and out the front door of the Penetrating Pony.
Rubbing tired, bleary eyes, the wizard made his way down the stairs and added a liberal helping of sugar and goat’s milk to the black, steaming drink and carefully nursed it, burning his tongue slightly while Bethilda set a steaming bowl of white stew before him. The Halfling poked at the bowl with his spoon and actually thought about skipping breakfast and returning to bed. “That would be rude, and I probably won’t get Second Breakfast this morning. And this does smell really good…” the Halfling thought to himself as he dug in. Despite his exhaustion, and his protests of not being hungry, the druidic mage wolfed down his food and began to feel strength returning to his diminutive frame.
He finished both his drink and his stew and headed upstairs to his room to gather his tools and review his spell books. “A spell to alter the appearance of the clothing will be essential,” thought the mage, “and another to resist fire.” Romulus thought a little longer “Yes, those should suffice.”
Romulus turned and looked out of the window and watched the sun creeping ever higher into the sky. “Well, time to get started. This armor isn’t going to enchant itself.” With a groan, Romulus heaved himself out of his chair, tucked his spell books into his backpack and headed back down the stairs and out into the street enroute to the tailor shop.
- - - - -
When Romulus arrived at his destination, he headed inside and found the four apprentices already hard at work. Still stumbling through conversations in broken Lankhmarese, Romulus regales the young workers with stories of past adventures and monsters slain.
- - - - -
When Romulus arrived at his destination, he headed inside and found the four apprentices already hard at work. Still stumbling through conversations in broken Lankhmarese, Romulus regales the young workers with stories of past adventures and monsters slain.
“Вертеидигунг
ерхалтен
Счилд
бефестиген
верклеиден
Костüм
Фассаде…
Вертеидигунг
ерхалтен
Счилд
бефестиген
верклеиден
Костüм
Фассаде…
Вертеидигунг ерхалтен Счилд бефестиген верклеиден Костüм Фассаде…
Вертеидигунг ерхалтен Счилд бефестиген верклеиден Костüм Фассаде…»
The archmage opens his arcane sight, wincing in the pain as his eyes begin to throb. Romulus reaches out and begins picking at the strands of eldritch energy that permeate this world and begins to shape them, binding and twisting loose threads of energy into a complex weave, slowly binding the magic into Kysek’s new clothing.
Romulus quickly loses track of time as he spins one enchantment after another, layering the suit of clothes with enough fortification to withstand the blows of a giant. Romulus adds the other magic’s he considered earlier and with sweat running down his brow and burning his throbbing eyes he tucks the loose end of the enchantment into the outfit.
Romulus inspects his work, checking it for completeness and satisfied that all is well, he releases his magical sight and slumps forward in exhaustion. He reaches out with one hand and breaks the mystic barrier surrounding him and keels over onto the floor.
- - - - - -
Kysek’s Armored Attire
• provides +8 armor bonus to AC
• Glamered
• Fire Resistance 10
• Feather Fall (automatically activates if wearer falls more than 10’, lasts up to 20 rounds)
Kysek’s Armored Attire
• provides +8 armor bonus to AC
• Glamered
• Fire Resistance 10
• Feather Fall (automatically activates if wearer falls more than 10’, lasts up to 20 rounds)
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