The Cloak of Féth Fíada

A beautifully crafted cloak of featherlight fabric that is resistant to stains and dirt, and nearly impossible to tear. The cloak seems to shimmer slightly if turned this way and that in the light, and when donned a faint shifting of shadows around the user seems to occur. The item itself radiates a very powerful and very old enchantment, and if magic is used to investigate the item further, silvery runes will illuminate along the inner hem of the cape in the ancient Oileandan tongue. This dialect is close enough to Seanachaisian that it can be interpreted with knowledge of it.
If the hood is pulled up the shifting of shadows will increase, granting the wearer a bonus to any attempts at stealth or hiding.

History

The cloak is the result of a Fey halfbreed that had grown to be a hate filled monger of suffering, despising her human heritage so much that she sought to remove it by appealing to the Fey rulers by creating a number of items meant to entice the possessor into using them long enough to corrupt their spirit and drive them away from the things that made them human, and in doing so slowly strip away the part of the halfbreed that she hated, her humanity.

Item type

Clothing / Accessory

Creation Date

1600 AR

Creator

Caoimhe Iníon Mab

Raw materials & Components

The cloak is made of reinforced spider silk, processed magically and dyed with the stain of a narcotic flower that no longer grows on Cairne.

Tools

The incantation of its creation as written upon the internal hem of the cape in small, tight runic script reads as follows:
“Orchil, an bandia caol a shuíonn faoi na cré donn, i gcuas dorcha mór, áit a bhfuil sí fí ag dhá loom. Ar thaobh amháin sí fíodóireacht beatha aníos tríd an bhféar; agus le an ceann eile fighe sí bás síos tríd an múnla; agus is é fuaim a fíodóireachta Eternity, agus a ainm sa glas Is é an domhan Am. Agus, tríd is tríd, Orchil wefts an inneach de go deo, go Ní théann, trína hanam tugtar Athrú. Tarraingim amach breoiteacht mo spioraid dhaonna, Bás íontach anama marbh, An brú ag gol an éadóchais agus laige, An boladh bréan de shaol amú, Agus na deora milliún anam nach tirim. Tarraingim an masla seo uaim as mo spioraid agus caithim arís é i bhfís mo chruthaithe, a chur ar ais chuig maoir na ndaoine thuas, áit ina suífidh sé ina bolg mar phéist ocrach, agus lobhadh iad ón taobh istigh lena n-truaillithe féin. Agus créatúr dhá shaol Níl a fhios ag an tsíocháin Ná ní dhéanfaidh seoltóir an bhrat seo Wrap tú féin i mo bhrón Tú, a leanbh de thalamh na bhfear Bíodh brón na gcónaitheoirí eatorra Líon na scáthanna a mheasann tú a cheilt. Ní bhfaighidh tú aon sólás, go dtí go ndéanaimid é”