Halo Circlet (Patreon)

Wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement)

This lustrous, gilded circlet hovers just above your head while worn. The inside of the circlet radiates with a golden glow, like a halo. While wearing it, you can speak, read, and write Celestial. In addition, you can use a bonus action to gain a flying speed of 30 feet until the end of your next turn. When you do, a pair of glimmering wings of golden light appear just behind your back for the duration.

While wearing the circlet, you can use your reaction to shroud yourself in celestial energy whenever you take fire damage, necrotic damage, or radiant damage from a hostile source. When you do, you have resistance to that damage type, including the triggering damage, until the start of your next turn. You also gain a secondary effect that depends on the type of damage dealt:

• Fire damage. The triggering fire damage is quartered, instead of halved.
• Necrotic damage. The first target you hit with an attack on your next turn takes an extra 2d10 necrotic damage from the attack.
• Radiant damage. You can use a bonus action to restore 2d8 hit points to a creature you touch on your next turn.

Divine Opposition. If you're a tiefling and are wearing the circlet, you can choose to deal radiant damage, instead of fire damage, whenever you would deal fire damage to a target. In addition, you can use a bonus action to release a wave of beautiful, discordant energy from the circlet. The wave affects up to 8 creatures of your choice that you can see within 30 feet of you. You choose if an affected creature is either affected by the bless spell or is forced to make a DC 15 Charisma saving throw; on a failed save, it's affected by the bane spell instead. These spells end at the start of your next turn, and any creature affected by them adds or subtracts 2d4 from its rolls, respectively, instead of 1d4. Once this bonus action has been used, it can't be used again until the next dawn.

The tiefling moved gracefully as she milled around her kitchen. Her features were dramatic and dark, cast in shadow from a gleaming halo above her head. Her horns seemed to wreathe it, proudly.

She didn't pay much mind to the scholar in the doorway. There he stood, pen in hand and scratching at the notepad before him. She didn't know what he was writing, but it wasn't the first time that someone had come looking for her, for one reason or another.

With knife in hand, she started to chop fresh herbs. Without looking up at the man, she spoke. "Sorry you came so far for nothing, 'cept a meal if you're hungry. If you're looking for Mama Luce—well, Advector Lux, she was my mother. I can't say much about her days on high or her fall to erinyes. I can speak a little of her escape, but mostly I just know how she met Dad. She loved telling that story."

The pen continued to scratch on the parchment.

"...I can say she grew roses," she continued. "The glow of her wings helped people home at night. She always cooked too much, so any neighbors who went hungry could find a meal with her—guess that's something I got."

More scratching. The tiefling brushed her halo: on closer inspection, it was more of a glowing, gilded circlet.

"And this, too. She kept the pieces when she fell; eventually, dad put 'em back together. Gilding to cover the cracks, with gems so her light'd be harder to miss.

"Then I came along—horns 'n all—and she passed it to me. Even with her…gone...I can carry her inspiration. Her kindness. And when I need it, her resilience and fury...." She eyed the man with that last sentence. The silence and scratching made her tighten her grip on the kitchen knife.

The man put down the pen and looked into the tiefling's eyes. "Thank you for your time, Miss Luce. I'm sure your mother would be proud of you."

—Interview with Amends Luce for Exiles of the Planes, published in its memorial appendix