Rocborne Rod (Patreon)

Rod, rare (requires attunement)

This wooden rod is carved in the representation of five ancient rocs. Motes of their spirit flow through it and allow you to channel some of their lingering power.

This rod has 5 charges and regains 1d4 + 1 expended charges daily at dawn. While holding the rod, you can use a reaction while falling or an action otherwise to expend 1 of its charge to cause two handles to extend from both ends. While holding the handles, a pair of magical wings appear above the rod that reduce your falling speed to 10 feet per round, or 20 feet if you weigh more than 200 pounds. While falling in this way, you gain a flying speed of 40 feet but cannot fly upwards without a significant updraft. If you land on the ground while falling in this way, you take no damage from falling.

In addition, you can use the rod to summon a buffeting gust of wind around you. While holding the rod aloft, you can use an action to expend 1 of its charges. When you do, powerful winds whip around you and blow everything within 20 feet of you skyward in a column of wind 60 feet high. Large and smaller creatures within range must succeed on a DC 15 Strength saving throw or be launched 30 feet upward before crashing back to the ground. Affected objects weighing less than 200 pounds are also launched by the wind. You automatically succeed on the saving throw unless you decide to fail it. If you choose to fail the saving throw and use your reaction to summon the magical wings (if they weren't already summoned), you're carried upward 60 feet instead.

They thought the old man was senile.

He presented himself as a guide to the mountains, but these men wanted nothing but to trick him and poach for rumored roc eggs along the mountain.

"Is it true that these mountains are home to majestic rocs? We'd love the opportunity to study their natural habitat," they smiled. Smiles sickly sweet and fake, filled with malice. The old man simply smiled back. He walked with the help of a weird looking rod. Surely, it would be easy to ditch and outrun him later on.

They reached the peak of the mountain, but they didn't find any rocs. Maybe the rocs weren't home today, but it didn't matter. Touring through the mountain, the men had figured out the probable hiding spot of the eggs. Halfway down the mountain, three of the men went missing. Of course, it was a ruse. In the confusion, the men pretended to start panicking and running off in different directions.

The men had regrouped and rushed into the nest's hiding spot. They were surprised that instead of the nest, they found the old man waiting for them. He was keener than they thought, and they had walked right into his trap.

"The rocborne will not let you harm the little ones," the old man said, still smiling. A smile sickly sweet, but genuine. There was no malice in his smile.

Suddenly, the men felt a strong rush of wind around them blowing them upward. They were helpless, completely under the mercy of this accursed mountain and its old caretaker. As quickly as it arrived, the winds dissipated, and they all fell to the ground with a loud collective thud. The last thing they saw was the old man, aloft, with his weird winged rod, before everything faded to black.