Doomed Plate Mail
| Type | Armour |
|---|---|
| Discovered By | Hithithil |
| Discovery Date | 19 August 2008 |
| Discovery Location | Atamara |
| Abilities | Prestige +5 |
| Current Owner | (unknown) |
Item
Name: Doomed Plate Mail
Type: Armour
Condition: 95%
Special: Prestige + 5 (from 5)
Current Owner: Hithithil Urominiel
Description
Bronze coloured plates line the front and back of this chain mail suit. The plates are said to be impenetrable save for a single plate at the back over the area of the heart. The wise sages have tried to repair this plate but have never been successful at locating it.
History
The Doomed Plate Mail is said to be kept by a powerful lord from a time long forgotten. In his arrogance lord believed he was invulnerable in the chain mail suit until one day when he was murdered in it. Rumour has it the suit was buried with him and any wearer who lacked the virtue of humility would be doomed to the same fate.
Discovery
The stench of death hung in the air, something was definitely afoot, or was that a hand, he couldn't be sure. Hithithil followed the tracks of decaying body part as they weaved through the sparse woodland. Lamp in one and blade in the other, he left Tinwë to pursue the hunt. His new spy glass proved useful spotting three unholy fledglings in the moonlight. He made short work as he took them by surprise and scattered their bones into the woods. Following the tainted path, the air grew thicker til it was almost a haze. Five wretched shapes stood in the distance. Once human, now disfigured in tattered rags, they advanced on him. With two quick swings, one was less an arm and the other its head. Their rusted blades glanced off his bracers as he parried their blows. A few more swings and five headless corpses lay at his feet. Their decayed state had given him the advantage and the re-animation spell obviously had a loose hold. Hithithil knew there was still some distance to cover before he would get to the source of their power.
The pale moon now hung high in the night sky, but its rays scarce in the blanketing mist. He had fought back and ambush earlier and broke vanguard lines. Now as he watched from a ledge a small undead army was gathered below. How many exactly, he was unsure as their ranks faded into the fog. But the undead champion stood only a few feet below him carrying the item which emanated unholy life. It murmured some wicked verse in a dark ritual. Hithithil fastened a rope to the near by tree and lowered it down. He slid down the rope and landed hard on the dirt. Quickly he pulled himself back up to smite down the closest undead. The wight's gaze was upon as it bellowed some ghastly war-cry. It charged towards him, its wretched form flowed in fluid motion, much quicker than the other ghouls around him. Its initial blow struck Hithithil's shoulder sending him down on one knee. If it were not for his new armour Hithithil would be less an arm, but instead he swung his blade forward glancing off the champions bronzen plate mail. Hithithil launched himself upwards into the wight's abdomen while grabbing at its legs, knocking it backwards to the ground. He stabbed wildly at the wight's chest, but its armour seemed enchanted by some dark magic. Failing to make a dent in the armour gave the unholy champion a chance to counter. It clutched Hithithil throat with decrepit fingers and thrusts its sword towards him. Hithithil rolled from the thrust and locked the Wights sword-arm in his own armpit. In a desperate attempt to free himself, Hithithil sliced across the undead's face, cutting through both cheeks. With his other hand he grasped its lower jaw and pulled tearing the decaying flesh and bone til it no longer hinged on the wights face. It shrieked an eerie screeched that echoed through the woods, but its gripped loosened enough to let Hithithil take a breath.
Hithithil scrambled to his feet, taking with him the wights free arm, torn from its socket. Holding an arm in one hand and his blade in the other, Hithithil faced off against the one-armed champion. Hithithil parried a blow with the arm and thrusts towards the wight, again unable to dent his armour. This time as the undead came around again to charge, Hithithil ducked and rolled causing the undead champion to flail and crash over-top of him. It was then we he saw it as he pulled himself up, a kink in the armour, a hilt protruding from the champions back; a single plate missing from the impenetrable suit. Hurling himself on top of the champion, Hithithil pulled the rusted dagger from its heart. The keeper of the Doomed Plate Mail let off a hiss as the dark magic escaped from it. The small undead army crumbled and sunk to the ground from which they rose. Hithithil lay on the corpse panting for breath. As he gathered himself up Hithithil held the Doomed Plate Mail, the hole of the missing plate was no where to be found.
