“Blackest night and bloody red, cursed blade of nameless dread.”

-Inscription from the Omenthorn’s pedestal

The fair folk of Cladach Fada compulsively hoard troves of magical artifacts, drawn to the enchanting pulse of arcana that resonates with their very bones. Most, they treasure. Some, they revile. The Omenthorn is one of the latter. A red and black spear of unknown origins, it inspires an instinctive fear in nearly all fey who draw near to it. Believed to be harboring a vicious curse of ill fortune, the Omenthorn was kept secluded in the deepest, darkest grove of the realm, where it lay out of sight and out of mind for centuries. Until one night, with a crimson moon overhead, the fey found a convenient excuse to be rid of it.

It was reasoned that an individual already of ill portent would be more resilient to whatever curse lay upon the weapon. And so, the spear was left with the exiled infant, Caenis, at the forest’s edge. Her only heirloom of her people was an object they despised. However, their assumptions may have been well-founded, as neither Caenis nor her adoptive parents suffered any ill effects from the Omenthorn throughout her early life. Even when she began to wield it during her travels, the weapon did not seem to exhibit any signs of ill omen.

Though perhaps those who met their end on its blade would disagree.