Goonalan's D&D 5th Edition Campaigns
Magic Item- Ice Claws (3)
Boots of the Winterlands
“Ice Claws” Boots of the Winterlands.
Resistance to cold damage.
Wearer ignores difficult terrain related to ice or snow.
Wearer ignores temperatures from -50 to -100 degrees F.
They may have other powers, see below.
Many magic items that need to be attuned possess a fragmented memory of their own existence, these ‘memories’ play out in dreams or visions witnessed by the newly attuned wielder, sometimes the dreams or visions are triggered by in-game events or experiences.
Interested adventurers can attempt to learn more about the item through research, or else by employing magical means.
Generally the first three ‘memories’ of the magic item will be presented below, other ‘memories’ will remain secret- only visible here to the wielder of the item.
Looking down at the Ice Claws on the feet of the wearer- from the wearer’s perspective.
The man is stood in a world of swirling white- snow and ice as far as the eye can see.
Audio the swirl and swish of falling snow, every now and then the creak and groan as the man turns on the spot- the sound of the snow beneath his feet as he pivots.
All around him a world of white.
Suddenly a blue flash on the horizon, mostly hidden by the snowstorms swirl, our man stops turning and stares intently at the horizon.
The blue flash comes again, like the play of some great torch, or the lightning flash of lightning- only blue, a sharp blue with watery edges.
The flash comes again.
We’re running- running towards the light.
The sound of the thud-crunch as the Ice Claws break through the ice. Eventually the sound of sharp, but measured, breaths- whoever this guy is he’s fit and trained for running over ice- it comes naturally to him.
Ahead the sky is suddenly filled with a mad streak of electric blue.
Faster now. The man runs faster now, again modulating his breathing to take into account the change of pace.
The blue lightning strikes again, still far ahead, and yet we can almost see the spot. The light, in the sliver of a second it is is visible, is intense.
Breathing hard we run into a sudden silence- as if the all the air and noise has been sucked out of this space.
And then as suddenly the noise is back, and with a vengeance, a roaring cracking thunderous noise- the percussive burst of a lightning strike, magnified by a thousand- for a second the noise deafens us. The sound wave arrests the man, for a moment, sends a wall of white- like a tidal wave, as it lifts the ice and snow from the ground.
We stop and brace- lean into the howling wind, stung for a second by a flurrying wall of white.
Something in the distant looms- an odd shape, unable to connect to anything we have seen before or know for sure.
And then a groan- like the end of the world, a CRACK- like thunder without the rumble, and we lurch and fall on all fours.
A world of white, the snow and swirl.
The blue lightning has gone.
The world is as it was.
We’re breathing hard now, and it sounds a lot like despair.
The freezing cold still, blue ice beneath our feet- look up.
A clear and cloudless day, a watery sun- the air is still, after the storm.
Fresh, and clear, and blue and white- it smells clean.
Suddenly chatter behind.
We turn around, a fur clad woman- young and beautiful.
Behind the woman a camp site, a mixture of yurt and tee-pee like structures, on the ice; a community.
A feeling of belonging, happiness.
The woman enfolds you in her arms, smiling up at you.
She smiles some more and laughs.
Takes you by the arm and pulls you, drags you towards one of the structures.
All the while laughing and smiling at you.
She’s in love with you- you can see it in her eyes.
She ducks into the entrance to the yurt, and drags you in to the warmth, and life.
You awake- still smiling, and infused with joy and hope.
The memories tumble through your mind- a life lived, somewhere on the freezing steppes to the north of Faerun; you witness all the events brought by cold days and warm family life- a cascade of memories, some happy- some sad, including-
a) A hunt to capture a great tucked ice beast (a walrus).
b) The birth of a son & daughter- twins.
c) The death of a loved one- your father?
d) The birth of a third child- another daughter.
e) A feast with plenty to eat and smiling faces.
f) A time of terror as a great scaled wyrm (not a dragon) launches through the ice and takes two of your companions and submerges- gone in seconds.
g) The funeral of those lost in the attack above.
h) Loneliness and the cold icy plains.
i) The smile and embrace of your beautiful wife, now grown old before your eyes.
All of life… all of life.
Each time the memory comes again it makes you feel content, and warm, if only for a moment.