Sanguine Plume

Ranged WeaponsDual Pistols

One who bore this weapon was a weaver, granted it by Father Ask in honour of his ingenuity. The garments he wove shimmered like morning dew upon flowers and seafoam upon rolling waves. He brought beauty into the world and watched people commit every manner of folly in pursuit of it. In time, he grew bored. He held a banquet and unveiled a feathered robe of unrivalled splendour, declaring that only the last guest standing could claim it. And so the guests turned on one another, slashing and hacking until the hall ran red — and before dawn, the weaver too was swallowed by the bloodshed.