#artifact storage notes

(the other side)

An exceedingly old knife. Somehow, it has maintained an edge, despite appearing to be at least several hundred years old. The accompanying statement claims that the knife can only kills after stabbing a victim 23 times. We obviously couldn’t test this with a living subject, but we were able to acquire a test mannequin. The knife, when used to stab, doesn’t make a single mark in the victim until the 23rd wound is made. After that, every stab wound appears at once, resulting in near instant ruination of the mannequin’s torso. The mannequin didn’t seem very happy with this result.

A pair of steampunk style night vision goggles. They appear to be activated by the wearer excitedly shouting “my character has darkvision!” as they walk into a darkened area. The goggles then work until the wearer exits the area in question. The effect can be negated by another person stating “the darkness is magical, you still can’t see.” 

A bright red slide whistle. When played for a few minutes, the whistle is able to summon nearby rats. The rats do not appear to be fully controlled by the whistle, rather, they are called by the sound and then do as they please once they arrive. Intern Caleb wanted to play the whistle in the alleyway next to the Institute. Intern Caleb was not allowed to summon more rats than necessary to the Institute. 

An old viola and bow, both missing the strings. Each week, almost like clockwork, the viola appears to play itself. The tune is short and haunting, and brings with it a sense of dread that feels almost akin to eager glee. About thirty minutes after the first tune plays, the viola animates again, as if closing the curtains on a short stage play. In recent months, it has lain dormant. Today, it played the familiar tune again. We don’t know what that song heralds, but there is a sense of finality to it. The end has begun. 

A ball of pale lavender yarn. The yarn is quite possibly the softest thing in existence, and feels like a thousand angora rabbits combined their energies into one area of the universe. It’s a fibre artist’s dream; merely looking at it causes an intense need to create something with it. Once a project has started, however, it very quickly goes downhill. The yarn, though soft as everything, breaks any needle, hook, or loom on contact, with no apparent cause of the breakage other than it is simply broken now. Despite this, the need to use up the yarn only grows, which could escalate into the ruination of an entire collection of crochet hooks and knitting needles. The yarn remains intact through all of this. 

A plastic pencil sharpener. When used, it creates intensely satisfying shavings that end up much longer than one would think possible. It also breaks the lead of the pencil in precisely the right place that the user only realizes it’s broken when they try to write with the pencil again and the lead point falls out of the pencil. The sharpener is nondescript enough that it is often mistaken for one of the actual sharpeners we keep on hand, resulting in many an enraged shout and lost pencils. However, we have collected the shaving spirals into a decorative bowl in the break room. Helen seems to like it. 

A leather jacket with metal studs along the shoulders. We searched the jacket for possible dangers, and found that it was absolutely filled with knives. There were daggers in all of the obvious places, but the more we searched the more we found. Possibly the most unexpected location was a tiny, paper thin knife sewn into the lining of the collar. We stopped after we realized that when a dagger was removed from a hiding spot, another would appear in its place, resulting in basically unlimited knives in a single article of clothing.