#descripiton

Here's one for you DM's that want your voice based spells to have a longer range!

Appearance: A helmet with some sort of weird cone mechanism near the mouth.

Description: This helmet, made by a bard who liked to tinker with stuff, increases the range of voice spells by THREE FOLD. The helmet itself is actually detrimental for protecting one's self, so prepare to mitigate the AC loss somehow!

Attribute: Increases the range of voice type spells by 3 times it's base rnage

Here's one for you DM's that want an item that temporally increases your players damage output.

Appearance: A small glass cube, it seems fragile... but actually needs a lot of force to break.

Description: This Cube, made by something that's natural to our world, allows for the person who cruhes it to gain it's power. To crush it (& to gain it's power) one must find a way to break it, that dosn't require removing it from your person. The power from said cube is fleeting, so it will only stay around for about a good 28 seconds (4 turns).

Attribute; When this cube is destroyed, the destroyer gets +6 to all attacks

-Last 4 turns

adjective  1. Well known from long or close association.  2. In close friendship; intimate  noun  1. A demon supposedly attending and obeying a witch, often said to assume the form of an animal.  2. A close friend or associate. 

Returning from a fortnight in foreign surroundings, to the area I currently reside, I realised some home comforts that appeared in odd forms. 

I hold a turbulent and drawn out history with the area I refuse to call home. I have been drawn into it through out my life in one way or another by happenstance. It has entrapped me now for three years; all my plots to escape dwindle not long after they have been hatched. 

I resent the old beautiful buildings, which reminisce on a prosperous past. They stand tall in the centre of the village and in there shadows lurks all the vicious beings that inhabit this ruin. I cannot call this place a siren, as her song is not enticing. It sings of hopelessness and regret, a place where the pavements are littered with eggshells. 

As much, you might imagine that only if I had experienced true horrors abroad would I feel comfort in this place. 

But I had not, yet as we drove through the darkened hour of three I felt comfort from mundane sights. Ones that had most likely been present in my time away, but over looked, distorted by an extraneous land.

Celia J Dearden-Briggs