Pemberton Ring

Sages and scholars argue about the nature of these rings, their very existence as much a mystery as the creatures that supposedly forged them. Though all of them look slightly different, at their core is a strand of destiny spun by a fateholder to subtly empower and guide its pawns.

This ring stores inspiration and holds it for later use. While wearing this ring, you can choose to gain and use the inspiration stored within it. Once the inspiration is used, it is no longer stored within the ring.

When found, the ring contains 1d4 – 1 inspiration, as determined by the Narrator. The ring can store up to 4 inspiration at a time. To store inspiration, a creature with inspiration spends a short rest wearing the ring and chooses to bestow it. The inspiration has no immediate effect.

In addition, whenever inspiration from within the ring is used the Narrator may choose to grant a vision of possible future events of great import.

This particular Freelinking: Node title ring of inspiration does not exist storing was last owned by the vampire hunter Sylvia Pemberton and currently has 3 inspiration stored inside of it. Around its silver band are meticulous gold runes and pious iconography, and whenever the ring is used the adventurer wearing it experiences one of the following visions.

In addition, if the adventurers have Sylvia Pemberton’s journal this ring can be used to help break the cipher, granting advantage on Investigation checks to do so.

• With the last utterance of a solemn prayer the priest bestows a divine blessing upon Sylvia’s sword, the Pemberton family seal glinting with a new silvery light in the dancing flames of the church’s candles.
• Rugged hills span as far as the eye can see, mists rolling over the highlands of Albia like massive wispy fingers made red by the creeping dawn. Sylvia Pemberton’s blood-flecked silver hair whips in the wind and she smiles as the howling gusts are joined by a wail from vampires her soldiers have trapped in the valley, their cries of pain becoming pure torment as the sun’s light creeps ever closer.
• The massive undead rushing after Sylvia unleashes a reckless strike—but the blade in its arm destroys only a stone archway as she dodges through the ruins of Mal Ballan in a deadly race towards her campsite. Holy energies flare up from runes around the monster’s feet as it nearly finishes the chase, its triumphant roar changing into a painful scream as golden energies wrap around and then destroy it.