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And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
...But you'll always follow the voices beneath.
Sure! Mines a bit of a weird one, probably not anywhere near the flavour you're considering. It's made from the corrupted, blood-seeping tree at Mhaldor's Avenue of Trapped Souls.APPEARANCE: a withered staff of skeletal wood.DROPPED: Profaning its environs, a withered staff lies upon the ground.EXAMINED: Hewn from the skeletal remains of a long-dead tree, this staff reaches nearly five feet in length. A viscous, blood-red substance seeps from the porous surface of the wood, filling the air with a sharp, metallic scent. The withered staff ascends from a splintered base, contorting in surmised agony all along its length. The staff terminates with a mass of ashen tendrils that twist together into the likeness of a human skull, an ominous crimson glow pulsing from within the hollow sockets.WIELD: You begin to wield a withered staff of skeletal wood in your right hand.The eerie creak of tortured wood fills the air as the tendrils atop a withered staff of skeletalwood momentarily writhe and churn.UNWIELD: You cease wielding a withered staff of skeletal wood in your right hand.Dead silence accompanies the ominous stillness of a withered staff of skeletal wood as it departsfrom its master's grasp.