Glyph-incised dark veil iron maul
A glyph-incised dark veil iron maul, also known as "Bane's Will", was one of the three Prisma Relics associated with V'tull the Berserker, along with the "Berserker's Bloodjewel" and a notched bone ring known as "Illusion's Shroud."
It was auctioned off on 10th Jastatos 5116. It is currently in the possession of Relic Hunter Madmountan Redthirfen.
Thin chains of crimson eahnor glyphs are inlaid in the dark veil iron surface of the maul's head, their sharp-edged angular forms contrasting with the gentle curve of the ebon-striated eahnor scimitar that they surround. A large brick of rough-hewn veil iron forms the head of the massive hammer, its murky exterior interrupted by thousands of tiny sanguine flecks. The carved ironwood haft of the dark veil iron maul is smoothed save for a small discolored band in the center of its length, right beneath an empty eahnor-caged socket.
- 5x, heavily damage weighted
- 1x/hour V'tull's Fury when raised
You direct your voice at the dark veil iron maul, prodding it vocally as you search for any hint of its history... Just as it looks like the dark veil iron maul is inert, something grabs you and pulls you along as a swirling mass of a story begins to play itself out. Your vision focuses on a notched bone ring that encircles the dark ironwood haft of the dark veil iron maul. Immediately above the ring of bone rests a dark-cored bloodjewel, sparkling with a crimson inner fire. The vision begins to draw back, granting a wider field of vision as you see the wielder standing in front of an opposing army. Suddenly its ranks break into chaos and confusion as soldiers turn on their comrades, hacking and hewing with reckless abandon. The bloodjewel set into the dark veil iron maul begins to glow with a baleful, bloody crimson radiance as the slaughter continues. Laughter echoes in your ears though the source is unclear. The few remaining survivors fall on their own swords in a gruesome display. Undertones of desperation seep into the story, painting it in an acrid sense of fear and anger... Danger. Panic. They seek to unmake me. Vessel of bloodlust, we must destroy the monks. Completely and utterly. They will unmake me. VESSEL OF BLOODLUST, THEY MUST BE DESTROYED. VESSEL! The elven warrior must die first. Then the monks will fall easily. LET NONE LIVE. DO NOT LET THEM LAY THEIR HANDS UPON ME. WE WILL KILL THEM ALL. Each and every one rendered down until their bones are dust. The story continues as a drama writ small, your field of vision reduced to the haft of the dark veil iron maul. A weathered pair of forge-scarred hands slowly runs over the weapon, stopping to prod and poke at the dark-cored bloodjewel and the notched bone ring encircling its haft. As the hands vanish and reappear you notice the shadow of a hammer in one hand, but are unable to look up. You hear a short prayer as the hammer's shadow begins to descend upon you and the world dissolves into nothing but pain and rage.