Warmage's Belt

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Description

A sturdy leather belt is a common component of a suit of mage armour, using raw magic to protect the guts and groin. When the magic of the belt is invoked, healing power flows up from the base of the spine and the stomach and spreads through the body, not only fixing damaged skin, bone and blood vessels, but invigorating the wearer. Many wearers feel permanently vigorous and potent. Briars find this effect particularly pronounced, bestowing upon them a restlessness and drive extreme for even the twisted. This leads many briars, ashamed of their heritage, to avoid this mage armour. Those few who embrace their lineage in spite of the suspicions of others wear these belts proudly, relishing their exaggerated liveliness and putting their energies to good use on the battlefield

A warmage's belt is usually polished with ambergelt resin, usually inlaid or embossed with weltsilver. The rune Bravash is often worked into the front of the belt, helping to generate and channel vital energies when the belt is invoked. For this reason, some waggish Marcher once named it the cocksure cummerbund, a name which appears in more than one bawdy ballad. A Marcher landskeeper who wears a warmage's belt may expect some good-natured ribbing after the battle is won.

As might be expected, the warmage's belt is common among the Sentinels of Urizen, where it is often made with elegant simplicity. In contrast, a number of extremely decorative examples exist from the League, made around the turn of the fourth century when the Merchant Prince Julio de Tassato ran a contest to make him a suit of mage armour that exemplified his Pride in his city - the prize being a hefty sum of steel and exclusive patronage for the winner. In an ironic turn lost on none of Tassato's salon wits, blind judging led to the prize going to his greatest rival, who purchased all of the runners-up with the prize money and marched his Free Company through the streets to display them.

Rules

• Form: Mage Armour.
• Effect: Once per day you may use the second wind skill.
• Materials: Crafting a warmage's belt requires eight ingots of weltsilver and four measures of ambergelt. It takes one month to make one of these items.

"Hold still!"

The harsh tone of the cambion seamstress shocked him out of his contemplations. Tillita had a reputation of being the best in Sarvos and it would not do to anger her. Almost immediately, Illyrio felt a sharp pain in his rear and near jumped out of his skin.
"Pay attention! That's what happens if you start daydreaming and shuffling your feet. A pin will be the least of your worries if you are so distracted when you stand before the guild tomorrow!"

Illyrio sighed and stood up straight, his cheeks flushing a bright red. His embarrassment was not just due to the constant haranguing this tailor was giving him, but also to the nagging fact that she had been right on every occasion. He regaled himself briefly in the magnificent full-length gilt-edged mirror that stood before him in Tillita's well furnished studio. Somewhere off to the edge of the room, he could hear his young apprentice Cassio snickering into his sleeve. He would have to have words.

“I have chosen this to complement your new robe.” Tillita clapped her thrice-ringed hands together and a naga child ran out from behind the rich red curtains leading to her workshop, a sturdy belt held above his head. Illyrio studied it with interest, noting how it was the weltsilver reflected the light, drawing further attention to the embossed rune in the centre. Tillita had outdone herself, he thought as the seamstress took the belt from the youngster and arranged it around his ample midriff.

At once, Illyrio felt empowered – potent and confident. A perfect choice not just for his meeting with the guild, but a marvellous accompaniment to any outfit. He smiled.

“I trust it meets with your approval.” Illyrio nodded vigorously.

“The full outfit will be ready in the morning. I expect prompt and full payment.” Illyrio carefully removed the new belt and robe, handing them to the child as Tillita adjusted the mirror impatiently. Illyrio took his cue and with a curt bow left the room, dragging his apprentice behind him.

Tillita fidgeted with the gold ring adorning her left index finger and motioned to the naga boy.

“Please be so kind as to pay a visit to Master Parati. Wish him good health and inform him of the details of Illyrio's purchase.” The youth

nodded and sped off down the stairs, leaving Tillita whistling to herself as she prepared the studio for her next customer. She had never loved her job more.