Wise Man's Fear
The Twenty Fifth of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent] Year 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
What do you most fear? The question is not as easy to answer as it might once have been. Once you had feared a tyrant's rule, then you had feared dishonor and the judgement of God for breaking vows to king and lord, and last of all before you took ship from Egypt you had feared that you might in a fit of madness pour all the venom in your soul out under the light of day. Since you had come under these strange stars you had feared the perils of the journey, storm and mutiny, beast and foe, but then you had come to understand that this was no journey you would see the end of, in this strange land you must dwell until the end of your days be they long or short, and with that fear had gone the way of longing leaving you feeling... empty.
The circle of gold gleams in the moonlight, oddly inviting. Is it calling to you? Does it want something from you? The thought of cursed treasure with a will and purpose of its own that would once have seemed the thing of nursery stories hangs heavy on the mind. You recall the voice of the dead wizard telling you to kill Zaia, then again the lure of the fairy treasure and the sight of Jean moving towards it without thought, and last of all how in this very battle you had almost fallen into slumber and left all those of your company to fend for themselves. Inge trapped beneath Silver, himself unable to walk, Tam dying, Henri alone in the dark...
That is what you fear most of all in this land of magic. You would a hundred times rather face Inge's ice magic than have your mind twisted about until it is not your own. You glance at Inge, the girl had not lead you wrong once yet, and if she says the ring shall not twist your mind then so it is... but perhaps it can guard you.
Touch...
Peering through the broad leaves you see sparks floating above a forge, you know fire but not like this, steady and bound. Pulling the wind at your back you fly close.
Feeling...
You do not see the net before it snares you, but you feel it upon your wings, heavy with the scent of acacia and wormwood and honeybush. The knife is sharp at least, and bright, so bright.
Binding...
You do not hate it as much as you thought you might, once the dark is lifted, scales of gold are bright-imperishable and you will fly farther upon the white wings of ships than ever wings of flesh could carry you.
When you come back to yourself it is to find the amulet around your neck blinking up in the moonlight, yet you do not feel befuddled but somehow more aware of your own thoughts. The coiled dragon's eyes had opened into emeralds green as grass.
Gain Medallion of Mind Sentinel
Appearance: A ring wrought of flowing yellow gold in the shape of a dragon or a serpent swallowing its tail. Eyes green as grass sparkle by moonlight and by sunlight.
Ability: The medallion grants a continuous +2 resistance bonus on saves versus mind-affecting spells, spell-like abilities, and supernatural abilities. If the wearer fails a save to avoid becoming dominated or confused, the amulet immediately allows the wearer to roll a second saving throw to resist the effect as a free action. If this second save is successful, the medallion's power fades away entirely and it becomes a simple piece of silver jewelry.
"I saw..." you are not sure you have the words to finish that sentence, but Inge just nods.
"Magic is made in the soul like light is made in a candle. Where you have magic in wood or gold or bone or any other thing you have soul..." Seeing your alarmed expression she adds. "Little soul like fish or lizard. That..." she points at the amulet. "Guards you from what you fear, it has to want to guard you."
That... makes about as much sense as anything in this land does. You will think about it later. You give a vague approving sort of grunt for lack of a more coherent answer then turn to Henri. "I'm afraid your skill in not getting hurt has earned you the privilege of digging graves, lad," you make a go at gallows humor as you point to the bodies. After a moment you add: "Not to worry, I'll help when I am done here."
Here of course was the tent. Inside you find many things you had expected for find, supplies for the road, though more cheeses and strange fruit and no hardtack and little meat, tools to make fire and spare clothes, more of the latter than three men could account for. The well fey had been honest about the Imperials having more companions at least. It feels faintly morbid do be doing this yourself to the belongings of people whom you had killed with your own hands. Looting is less personal in war, though perhaps it shouldn't be.
Then at last you spot it, a small chest, two palms long and half that wide made of the same strange iron, itself strange since you might as well make a chest out of gold given the cost of it in Apuku. Yet when you call her Inge says there is no spell on the chest itself and that she cannot see through it see any spell upon the contents. So you open it and catch a glimpse of six tiny polished white skulls, certainly small enough to belong to Irieje's kin.
"There's something strange about them," Inge says frowning at the skulls. "They don't gleam with any sort of magic, but they look too real to my eyes somehow, too solid."
What do you do?
[] Fulfill your bargain with Ukuhamba
-[] Hand over just the skulls, the chest is too valuable
-[] Hand the whole thing over, you do not wish to risk touching them
[] Renege on your deal, take the chest to Ohun
[] Write in
OOC: Welcome to another aspect of the world I have built here, most magic items in this world are alive, not necessarily sapient with an ego score and all, those are still rare, but certainly sapient.