Tales

The Ow Knife

Posted on February 28, 2017

Our party Cleric was a little bit of a weirdo. He decided he wanted to start practicing making magic weapons. Problem was, we were traveling through a very poor continent, so he didn't have, say, a forge.

Refusing to let that stop him, he put together a makeshift forge out of rocks and prayers, put it on a wagon, and dragged it through the swamp with us.

He spends weeks practicing. He doesn't really have the necessary levels or skills to pull this off, but he's trying really hard, and our DM respected that. After enough badgering, the Cleric finally gets the DM to let him finish a magic knife.

"Okay, give me your roll," says the DM.

The result was very low. The DM grinned. Our Cleric pulled his knife out of the oven to find it was essentially a butter knife—more like a flat stick of metal than a knife, really. I mean, what do you expect when you're using rocks and a wagon as a traveling forge?

You might call this a failure, but wait! There's more.

That night we tried to use the knife to butter our bread, but when the Cleric touched knife to butter, the knife let out a quiet cry: "Ow!"

Every time you tried to use the knife in any way, it would quietly protest with the verve of a tired kitten in a lot of discomfort. In the end, a huge success.

We kept that knife for a long time. It didn't ever really liked being sheathed, though. Got claustrophobic.

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