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The Umbrella of Chaos

Descriptions of legendary weapons of ages past and present.

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The Umbrella of Chaos

PostAuthor: amusedapathy » Tue Apr 03, 2012 2:23 am

Transcript of a story told late one night:
"I don’t often talk of her, like a soap bubble she was there one instant and in the next she was gone. In one hand she wielded surprise and in the other confusion. I’ve not seen her since that night but such a night leaves marks some visible and some on your soul. Not long after that night deep in the freezing pit that Fulfordis calls home I and a fellow mage found ourselves in the fight for our lives, every trick we had we threw, every advantage we exploited, every hope we had we chased; and in the end what surly must have been a surprise for the giant we won. I was unsure who at that moment was more surprised, us or the rapidly cooling ton of giant laying sprawled across the floor. At that moment with a broken arm, a few broken ribs and possibly a fractured skull the only thought in my mind was find my way out of that pit … and then I found it. Impossibly tiny, un-adorned and yellow; an umbrella lay amongst the coins of Fulfordis’s meager hoard. And I took it, and at that moment I realized while it was nothing, it was so unexpected that with out a doubt it was a gift from Forian. So I took it, and in honor of our surprising victory I wielded it in battle after battle, each victory more surprising, each victory more unexpected, and each victory a moment like that soap bubble; like her.

The umbrella as far as I could tell, was plain. Besides my surprise at finding it there was nothing particularly special about it, I always augmented it, strengthened it, and in general do what transmutants do … I don’t make things, I make them better. And for a time that worked. Then one day, after a long fight with spells fading I found myself once again with a woman and once again fighting for my life. The pairing was so improbable that Forian had to be rolling on the floor with glee; a paladin and a Red Mage locked in combat for their very lives with half a dozen bugbears. It was my skill with the arcane and her skill with the sword that was keeping us a live in that desperate fight when a dispelling sapped what little enchantment we had left and at that moment we were vulnerable, our defeat was certain. In desperation I swung the umbrella, it’s yellow fabric so plain and so frail and as it is want to do, surprising. I caught the bugbear chief across the side of his head, a glancing blow and in that moment the three hundred pounds of muscle, armor and mace lifted off the floor as light as a feather. Then the soap bubble popped and he slammed into the ground, I have no clue who was more surprised at that moment but in the next her sword found his throat and the victory was ours.

It was several weeks, maybe even months before the umbrella did anything even remotely strange, fighting an earth elemental off with one hand while fumbling for a wand to enchant the umbrella with the other I was in a desperate situation. The spotted print of the umbrella’s fabric did little to dissuade the elemental it’s brass tip barely made a mark and if I couldn’t get a firm grip on that wand I was going to be considering a new career as miscellaneous smear on a stone floor. With the strength born of desperation and the skill born of panic I managed to keep the massive earthen fists away from my squishy bits until with a massive and dense swing the elemental caught my arm and slammed it into the floor and some how through the pain I kept a grip on the umbrella. It’s shiny brass tip scraped the floor and in an instant almost as if at it’s bidding the floor leaped up wrapping and cocooning the elemental, runes of power flared along it’s wooden haft and like a hot knife through butter the umbrella sliced through stone; the bubble popped and again I was victorious. The cocoon of floor encasing the elemental broke and in that moment I punctured it with the brass tip of my umbrella, with a resounding crash it hit the floor. I stared at the umbrella in amazement, the runes faded almost back into the grain of the wood but I could see them know … it’s as if they were always there just waiting for me to need them. Shaking my head I sheathed the umbrella and bound my wounds.

To this day, it continues to surprise and amaze me, confusion and chaos in an umbrella found amongst a giants hoard pale and yellow, some times black and often spotted it is my constant companion."
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