Vambraces of Regeneration

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Description

This light mage armour most often has orichalcum decoration, and fastenings of weltsilver. The material is usually finished and reinforced with ambergelt. It offers a magician a way to recover quickly from crippling wounds. The forearm-guards of this suit of mage armour are most often marked with runes of healing or protection such as Rhyv or Feresh.

The Navarr call this mage armour the mantle of verbena after the fast-growing plant (believed to be a distant relative of the True Vervain). The fendwellers of Bregasland by contrast call them frogbracers and mark them with stylised depictions of newts and salamanders, creatures sometimes believed to possess miraculous abilities to regrow limbs. In Wintermark the combination of orichalcum and ambergelt used to craft this mage armour is often called trollsweave and gives rise to the common name of the trollsweave harness.

Rules

• Form: Mage Armour.
• Effect: Once per day you may spend ten seconds of appropriate roleplaying to repair one of your limbs that has been ruined by the cleave or impale call.
• Materials: Crafting vambraces of regeneration requires seven ingots of orichalcum, three ingots of weltsilver and three measures of ambergelt. It takes one month to make one of these items.

Hear me, brave children, you who will lead the Empire to greater glories, listen as I tell you of Larcwide, Son of Elfryd the Changeling, Larcwide hero of Wintermark, he who tamed the trolls to 'tend his words!

In those times there was much trouble between the Trolls and the Steinr, for this was before the age when the Trolls would be buried under the mountains. Larcwide was Thane then of a hall that numbered near a hundred people and angered by the Troll's raids he determined to put an end to them. But he would risk none of his warriors, so he set out aline in the fog and the forest, surrounded all by the dark in the green, surrounded all by the snows and the smells of night, of snow-lillies and crocus and brug.

At length he came at leas to an old farm, watched over by a whitehaired troll, who's wrinkled skin was old and pallid grey, whose back was crooked and curled like the moon is curved, like the bow when drawn or the old oak tree is gnarled and bowed.

"It is late," cried Larcwide, brave as the boar, "and here I am lost and the lights of your farm are bright and warm. I offer you my arm in friendship that I might call on Hospitality to beseech one drink of you, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night - for this night and these snows are cold and even your people have some laws of host and guest."

The bent old troll nodded and spat and the spittle sizzled in the snow. "Such is," said he" such is and such was and such will always be. But you must ask my father this, for this farm is his and host he is."

Larcwide, brave as the boar, looked on, at this old troll "Your father is yet alive? Old he must be, old as the trees around us."

"Older," said the Troll "and yet he lives. He sits inside in his chair."

So Larcwide, brave as the boar, strode on and in the farm beyond an old chair sat, crooked and wooden and in the chair an old troll sat, crooked and broken, such that his body, shrivelled like the winter leaves in frost, lacked fingers and feet.

"Old Troll!" Cried Larcwide, brave as the boar, "Your son sends me thus! For it is late and here I am lost and the lights of your farm are bright and warm. I offer you my arm in friendship that I might call on Hospitality to beseech one drink of you, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night - for this night and these snows are cold and even your people have some laws of host and guest."

The old troll's old father nodded and spat in to the hearth and the spittle quenched the flames a little. "Such is," said the old troll's father" such is and such was and such will always be. But you must ask my father this, for this hearth is his and host he is."

Larcwide, brave as the boar, looked on, at this, old troll's older father "Your father, too, is yet alive? Old he must be, old as the hills around us."

"Older," said the Troll "and yet he lives. He lives thus in that leather bag hung above the hearth. Better though you flee this place for my father will not tolerate a man who cannot shake his hand in friendship but beware for hard he always grips the hands of guests to see their strength and that may hurt you horribly."

Larcwide, brave as the boar, strode to the hearth and high on the hearth a leather bag was nailed, cracked and torn and in the bag an old troll sat, older still, and cracked and torn, more broken even than his crooked kin, such that his body, broken like the burnt wood in the fire lacked all but head and chest and arm.

"Oldest of Trolls!" Cried Larcwide, brave as the boar, "Your son and son's son sends me thus! For it is late and here I am lost and the lights of your fire are bright and warm. I offer you my arm in friendship that I might call on Hospitality to beseech one drink of you, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night - for this night and these snows are cold and even your people have some laws of host and guest."

The old troll's father's father nodded and spat in to the flames and the spittle burned and melted the very flagstones that fire was built on. "Such is," croaked the old troll's father" such is and such was and such will always be. I'll take your arm of friendship and I'll give to you one drink, one plate of food, a hearthbed for the night, for such is law of host and guest, even amongst out people. But first manling, you must grip my arm for you cannot rest here if you have not the strength to lift a flagon or hold a plate."

Larcwide, brave as the boar, thrust forward his arm and the oldest of the trolls gripped down upon it, squeezing it with all his might. The old trolls grip was so strong that Larcwide's bones gave way and his muscles tore before the Troll released him saying "Best you flee manling, for I hear the sound of bones cracking. You have not the strength to lift a drink with us."

Larcwide threw back his head and laughed. "Old Troll, I am Steinr, we fell from the stars! My bones are made of iron and cannot be broken by any force under the sky. The cracking sound you hear is nought but the sound of my armour shifting over my bones. Bring me a drink and I will prove to you that the Steinr are stronger than any Troll."

Thinking to prove Larcwide a liar, and thus win the right to devour him, the trolls went to fetch a flagon of ale. While their backs were turned Larcwide twisted the wide leather bracer that covered his broken arm, wrenching bone and flesh back into position.

When the trolls returned, to their astonishment Larcwide reached out his arm and took the drink from them and drained it dry.

And thus it was that Larcwide, brave as the boar, bravest of his kinsmen, taught the Trolls to fear the Steinr who once fell from the stars and whose bones are made of iron so that they cannot be broken by any force under the sky.