[Vacation Content 4/7] Magic Item — Dungeon Strugglers (Patreon)

The Dungeons Strugglers are incredible item makers, artists, and all-around people. If you're a supporter of the Saddlebag, Dungeon Strugglers are an easy choice when it comes on who else to follow and support. If you've thought even once over the last year, "huh, Griff's getting better at art," I can promise you that it's in part because of the friendship I have with the Dungeon Strugglers. 

Misty Shiv
Weapon (dagger), rare (requires attunement) 

A chilling mist wafts from the blade of this dagger. The misty shiv has 3 charges, and regains all expended charges daily at dawn. As a bonus action you can expend one charge to cast the misty step spell from the dagger. Upon reappearing, the next attack you make with this dagger before the end of the turn deals an extra 1d6 cold damage on a hit. 

The duchess sat on the plush leather bench seat of her carriage, her head resting against the window as she lazily watched the countryside roll by. The duke had long since given up any attempt at conversation when he realized she would rather sit quietly than make small talk. He contented himself with a platter of fine pastries while they rode in silence.

Outside, the sky had grown overcast and a thick fog began obscuring the farm houses, fields and hedges, until it muddied into a hazy blur. The duchess yawned, and in the moment when her eyes were almost shut, she noticed something in the fog. A man, running full speed, directly towards her. She snapped out of her daze, fully alert, but the man had vanished.

“Are you alright my lady?” 

“Yes, I- I thought I saw someone-” 

A shout rang out suddenly, and the carriage jerked to a halt. The duchess craned her neck to see what was happening. Confusion had broken out among the retinue. She turned to say “I can’t see anythi-”, but froze in mid sentence.

Sitting in front of her was a man who had not been in the carriage but one second earlier, grinning coldly as she stared in shock. He slowly held a finger to his lips, in a silencing gesture. The duchess had no choice but to sit still, paralyzed with fear. The man casually removed a handkerchief from his front pocket and began cleaning the knife in his hand. Thick crimson blood came away to reveal a gleaming steel blade. He smiled, flicked the dagger through the air, and vanished.

The duchess’ screaming eventually alerted her retinue to the duke’s body, slumped over his pastry tray, and the assassination that had just occurred beneath their noses.