Quarzis' Gambit Campaign
The Broach of Ana-Mollie
+2 Broach of Life Draining
Broach: +2 to AC
When the wearer is reduced to ½ his or her max HP the true magic of the broach activates.
On an enemy’s successful melee attack the monster must make will saving throw (against the wearer’s spell save, or if no spell save, the wearer’s charisma score) or the damage rolled is deducted from the monster and awarded to the wearer. The Broach is disabled when the wearer’s HP returns to above ½ max.
The broach is ineffective against: ranged or magical attacks. Nor does it effect demons, undead or extra planar creatures.
The young mother wrapped the blanket tightly around the crying infant.
“SSHHH little one”. she whispered through her tears. “you will be safe here; safer than with me” she added as she looked nervously over her shoulder listening to the shouts of the angry search party.
Kara-Mollie unclasped the broach from her cloak; held it close to her lips and uttered a brief incantation. The blood red stone burned bright within the silver talons that held it in their claws securing it to the coal black medallion that made up the rest of the broach. “ You my precious one, you are such an anomaly in this world, some day you will achieve the greatness you are destined for. Ana; I shall name you Ana, Ana-Mollie”.
Again the red stone glowed and one of the talons scrawled the name: ANA-MOLLIE into the face of the medallion. Kara- Mollie smiled and pinned the blanket closed with the broach. Always keep this with you, little one, it is your heritage it will keep you from harm.
Carefully Kara set Ana-Mollie on the threshold close to the door and rang the bell. “ Farewell my child, know that I will always be with you”. Kara stepped back into the street and ran toward the shouts; made sure she was spotted then turned down another alley and disappeared into the night.
The heavy door opened to the church and the nun looked down at the swaddled baby. “Oh dear, such harsh times lead to harsh decisions” she said as she picked Ana Mollie from the cold ground. “ ooo what an interesting broach“, she cooed . “what’s this?, “Ana-Mollie, what a sweet name; aah well let’s get you inside.”
Ana grew in the monastery, but she was never truly accepted by the clergy. The clerics could sense her true origins and try as they may they could not change what she was. They tried to break her spirit thru labor and when that failed; pain. Sister Therisia (the old nun who found her) would try to protect her, but she would be admonished for “turning on her own kind”. At the age of 10, Ana gathered her few belongings and with the help of Sister Therisia, Ana escaped into the big city.
Life on the street was hard on the child, times were hard on everyone in Jalpa. The poor were very poor and the wealthy liked it that way; but the poor were often wiling to share with the young urchin and she could find shelter in bad weather and odd jobs to earn her way. At 16 Ana-Mollie had learned the ways of the streets but after leaving the inn at the end of a hard night’s work, busing tables and cleaning up she was not prepared for the thug looking to steal the few coins in her purse and the silver broach on her cloak.
“ My my, what have we here” his voice rasped in her ear as he snuck up behind her. Ana reached for her dagger and lashed out slashing his arm. She tried to run but the big man caught her and threw her to the ground.
“You little bitch, you’ll pay for hat with more than the coin you could have given me”. Ana grunted loudly as the man kicked her brutally in the side. She felt what assuredly was a rib shattering from the impact. She fought to stay conscious but could feel the life being taken from her with each breath stifling kick. The man didn’t notice the red stone start to glow as he reached for his knife and knelt by Ana’s motionless body. As the blade of the knife touched the helpless girls’ throat; the stone burst into a searing arc of fire burning deeply into the mans’ chest. With a scream the man jerked back and slumped lifeless to the ground. A bright blue beam lanced from the dead man into Ana‘s Chest and with a shudder she felt her broken body mend as she passed out.
When Ana-Mollie woke she was no longer in the street, instead she was in a meager room in a small bed next to a fire. “Well now, finally you awaken; don’t fret you are safe