Wondrous Item

Very Rare

The Elurian Wreath-Amulet of Unyielding Luminescence is a masterwork of Raskirinthian craftsmanship. The amulet’s central piece is a disc of white wood, measuring precisely three inches in diameter. The surface is polished to a delicate smoothness, catching and diffusing even the faintest light in a soft glow. Embedded within the disc is a faint lattice of gelwed veins, intricately shaped to resemble the roots of the Great Tree, spreading outward from a single point at the amulet's center.   Surrounding the wooden disc is a wreath of interwoven gelwed branches, forged with such precision that the texture mimics real wood, down to the faint ridges and knots along the "bark." These branches are not uniform; some curve gracefully outward, while others twist slightly inward. At regular intervals along the wreath, clusters of tiny, leaf-like white gems are set into the gelwed. Each gem is cut in a soft, rounded appearance that contrasts with the sharp angularity of the branches. The gems gleam with an inner depth.   Suspending the amulet is a chain composed of finely crafted interlocking links, each resembling a branch. The links alternate between polished gelwed and a more matte finish, creating a subtle interplay of texture and light. The chain is adjustable, with a delicate clasp designed in the shape of a root cluster.   The overall weight of the amulet is perfectly balanced—not overly heavy, yet substantial enough to convey its importance. The craftsmanship is without flaw, every line, curve, and texture designed with a purpose. The faint warmth of the wood against the skin suggests a deeper connection to the light of Elurias.   When worn, add 30 Abyssal Damage mitigation   When worn, add 30 Unholy Damage mitigation   When worn, add 30 Fire Damage mitigation

"In the days when the Tree’s roots were yet young, there lived a humble farmer named Ardsig, known for his devotion to the Tree and his craft. Ardsig's fields were vast and bountiful, his crops nourished by the rays of Aurelis and the blessings of the Great Tree. Each season, his harvest was plentiful, and his offerings to the Light were met with favor.


Yet one year, in a time of peace and plenty, a shadow fell upon Ardsig's fields. Amongst the seeds he had gathered for planting, there appeared one unlike the others. It was shriveled and pale, its husk cracked and lifeless. No gleam of promise shone upon it, no vitality coursed within. The farmer, seeing the seed, pondered its place among the others. "Surely," thought he, "even this withered thing may find some use, for nothing upon Aurelis’ land is without purpose."


And so, with hope in his heart and a prayer upon his lips, Ardsig cast the withered seed into the soil, burying it amongst the fertile ground. The days passed, and the Sun shone brightly, and the rains came in their season. Yet, where all other seeds sprouted into life, the withered seed remained as it was: a husk, lifeless and barren.


Ardsig, undeterred, tended to the soil, whispering prayers and offering Light’s blessing to the barren patch. Yet, as he labored, he noticed a strange thing: the roots of the withered seed did not grow, but spread a sickness into the soil. The green shoots of the surrounding plants withered and blackened, and the soil itself grew hard and cracked, refusing to nourish the living.


In despair, Ardsig sought the counsel of the village elder, a wise man steeped in the teachings of the Light. When he had heard Ardsig's tale, the elder grew grave and stern, his face shadowed with sorrow. "The withered seed," spake the elder, "is no seed at all. It is a shadow that mocketh the Light, a corruption born not of the Tree but of shadowed nothingness. It carrieth not life, but corruption; not fruit, but poison. To leave it is to invite ruin, for its purpose is not to grow but to destroy."


Ardsig, his heart heavy, returned to his field. Taking up his blade, he dug out the withered seed and cast it into the flames, watching as its husk crackled and darkened, releasing a foul smoke that marred the air. The ground where it had lain was left barren, and though the farmer tended it with all his skill, it bore no fruit for all further seasons.


The elder, hearing of Ardsig's toil, came to his fields and placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Thy labor is not in vain, good farmer," spake he. "For in thy wisdom to remove the shadow, thou hast saved the rest. Though the barren patch remaineth, the Light doth prevail in the whole, for it is better to lose one corner than to sacrifice the harvest entire."


The elder then turned to the gathered villagers and declared: "Let this be a lesson to all who live by the Light: there are things which cannot be redeemed, whose purpose is not to serve but to sunder. These are not born of the Tree, nor do they dwell in the Light. They are as the withered seed, which must be burned lest it poison the faithful. Show mercy not unto them, for their very existence is an affront to the order of Aurelis."


From that day forth, the tale of the withered seed was told in every household and taught to every child. It became a symbol of vigilance, a warning against the shadow, and a justification for the unyielding resolve of the faithful. The farmers of Raskirith, when tending their fields, would burn any seed that showed the faintest mark of corruption, and in their labor, they found not cruelty but sanctity, knowing their work preserved the harmony of the Light."

- Raskirinthian parable of the withered seed

Weight: 0.5lbs