Kurosuke Ayame
Overview
Father: Vicar Gerard Alemain, Cleric of Tekk (War domain) Mother: Justicar Renee Alemain, Paladin of Tekk (War domain)
Appearance: Long black hair with wooden hair pin. Black eyes. Solid dark-blue kimono with a black haori, gray hakama. Silver holy symbol around her neck. Abused ash staff with a small blue crystal. Scar on the left side of her face.
Demeanor: Patient, willing to listen to reason. Does not tolerate those who would threaten the peace.
Background
Ayame had no real memories of her biological parents. Whether the trauma of what happened ripped them from her skull as a child, or their deaths were so unbelievably painful that she had suppressed them into nothingness, it didn’t matter. She knew they loved her, and that there was nothing she could do to conjure them from the afterlife. War had consequences, and one of those were her two parents so many years ago. The fight ended up moving into the small town of XXXXXXX, and by the end of it there was little left intact from the buildings to the families that lived there.
It wasn’t that war didn’t have a place in society. Ayame wasn’t so naive to think that everyone could live peacefully and tolerate the differences between countries or organizations or even two people. There are lines that cannot be crossed, ideas and beliefs that cannot be compromised with, and when that happens: there must be the willingness to fight.
That didn’t mean she had to like the idea of war. It did mean that she would do what she could to ensure that it didn’t happen without a proper cause. She had dedicated her life to Natu and to peace, and as a Jurist it was her job to ensure that if there was to be war that there was no other recourse available.
Ayame’s true first memories were of her adoptive parents: Gerard and Renee. Gerard was a Cleric of War, used to augment the armies and provide minor support to the paladins and knights on the frontlines. Clerics of War were not to be trifled with, and the amount of damage at their fingertips is more than impressive. To add to the sheer power of those lines was his wife Renee who excelled at mowing down whatever was in front of her as a Paladin who specialized in war. Her motivation was to do as much damage as possible to end things as quickly as possible. Her guiding principles never involved anger, but there was no shying away from what she believed in and trained to do every day: force the enemy to submit and break the will of the enemy commanders.
She loved Gerard and Renee dearly, but even her parents knew that devoting her life to war was something she could never willingly do. War had taken her biological parents, and it wore down her adoptive parents. War had wiped villages and towns off of the map and spread suffering in its wake. It didn’t matter how quickly you tried fixing everything afterwards, there were hard times involved by everyone in the wake of battle.
In the words of Gerard, “It is better to expend all useful effort towards the paths of peace before committing to war as the effort needed to restore the peace afterwards is a hundred-fold more difficult. There is no guarantee that those who deserved that peace will live to see it.”
Renee was not as eloquent in her opinion, but opined: “Ayame, breaking things is fun, but putting that shit back together is a complete pain in the ass. Better not to break things if you don’t have to.”
Chapter 1
Things are not looking great, Ayame thought to herself as she sat in the room of the inn, her meager belongings laid out in front of her.
She had a couple of changes of clothes, a beaten-up staff that had been literally tossed at her from the small vault of magic items, and a ring that supposedly replaced the armor that she normally carried with her. Along with a few gold pieces and some spell components for her prayers, there wasn’t much here.
It was weird. As a Cleric of Peace, she was used to talking with nobles or warring factions without armor, but here in the Secluded City she found herself sorely missing her armor. There wasn’t a ton of support here from the church, and a good set of armor seemed like a great thing to have here — especially if events unfolded like she thought they would.
The owner was nice enough, a young enterprising woman who had given her full backing to the Resistance, but not much of a conversationalist. Ayame was hoping to talk to someone in the Seclusionist sect, but that hope was quickly destroyed by a combination of her being from a foreign land and the advancing shadow of the Von Arigwulf “diplomats.”
The Lord of Shadows decided to send his son and companions to talk with the Seclusionists, which meant there was even less of a chance for Ayame to do anything constructive.
Walking down the streets was a dangerous proposition. There were several gangs that roamed and claimed various bits of the city as their own, each trying to hold on to what they could with what little power they could muster. The only people left in them were those who could not afford to leave, and those who were foolish enough to think they could profit off of it.
There were far more of the former than the latter.
Ayame sighed. The temple did not send mid-level clergy to places like this alone and expect them to turn the tide. It wasn’t unexpected, but it was disappointing. Even if she was careful, the chances of her making it home alive was slim at best. The Seclusionists were bad enough, but if they allied themselves with the House of Shadows then the slim chance would drop even further to zero.
It had to be important for the House of Shadows as the Lord himself sent his son along with the representatives to lead the talks. The Resistance was sure of that fact, but Ayame had some doubts. Most temples had intelligence networks as a matter of course, but considering the state of the Resistance currently any information should be taken with a large grain of salt in her opinion. However, she was outside of her church which meant she would rely on whatever information she could get her hands on.
The wind picked up as it blew in from the harbor, rustling her kimono and haori and brushing through her hair. It was an unusual sight in the Secluded City — her clothing was definitely out of place. There was so very little that she remembered from her childhood and she wanted to keep that link to her homeland — a place whose skies looked nothing like the endless expanse of Tamasora’s Skysea. The clothes were the small thing she allowed herself outside of the church and it provided her some comfort, a warm embrace from a world she could no longer return to.
In her right hand was a battered quarterstaff, scratched and scuffed and seemingly ancient. The crystal embedded in the top of the staff was chipped and cracked itself, almost matching the outlook of the city where she found herself. The clergy had almost thrown it at her as she left, a young acolyte bringing it out of the back of the small vault of magic items. She didn’t have the heart to reject the staff.
It really didn’t matter, as if she ever had to wield it in battle then things were far, far worse than she could survive.
Chapter 2: The Prayer
The prayer of Head Clerist of Natu, Kurosuke Ayame, after the Battle of the Tyrant, Seclusion City.
Natu, Empress of Paradise, First of the Solari Pantheon, Guardian of Ancestors and Nature, I pray to you as a devoted cleric and a most humble servant.
We reflect upon the waters of our city, cold and dark, and those depths that held secrets that threatened to destroy us all. The sin of Hubris, evolved from Pride; the sin of Gluttony, growing from the ashes of Ambition; and the Despair that comes from losing our path due to the shadows on the road were all called forth by the High Judge.
As Natu has taught us, evil is not blatant, it can be subtle. The desire to protect can slowly twist and warp into the desire to control, to corrupt, to destroy. The desire to destroy the evil perceived can morph into a desire to destroy all things as the evil slowly binds us to all. The High Judge became the Tyrant, and the Tyrant brought forth the Demon, and was consumed by the Demon. Our battle began, O Natu, and we prayed to you for the courage to face that most dire threat.
Natu, thank you for giving us the strength to bear the unbearable, to fight when exhaustion threatened to consume us, to hold the flames of hope against the winds of despair. Thank you for the strength to persevere through the night of war and see the hope of the next sunrise over the eastern horizon. Thank you for lending us your strength to destroy the Demon and bring peace back upon the city. Peace be upon us all.
Natu, please guide the souls of those lost to the battle with the darkness into your gentle embrace. Let those who have lost know comfort, the warmth of a fire on the coldest of nights. Grant those who have lost everything they held dear the strength to walk their difficult paths, a light to guide them on their way, and the presence of your being so they know that they are not alone.
Natu, for those who were sacrificed, for the Orcs whose souls were shattered, whose willpower was stolen from, and whose free will was violated, I pray to you. Grant those souls peace for they are free from the control of the Tyrant. I pray that the Orcs find the peace that they deserve, and the free will that was taken from them so violently. Let the flames of their funeral pyre guide them to their final homes and bring some comfort to those they leave behind.
Natu, for those who sacrificed everything they were, for those who risked their very being protecting the future of their loved ones, their friends and family, the people of the City, I pray to you. Grant those souls peace, guide them to their final homes with the understanding that their sacrifices saved their loved ones, their friends and family, and the City. Let the flames of their mortal coil light the way for those who survived them, and let the warmth be their final embrace to those they leave behind.
Natu, I offer another prayer for one who sacrificed themselves on the field of battle before the Demon. Their journey was long and fraught with peril, with twists through the shadows and the sunshine as any journey worth taking has. Without Mint Rose, the City would have been lost. Natu, I pray to you, guide Mint Rose to her final home and let her know that her deeds will not be forgotten. Let her know peace.
For all of us, O Natu, lead us, comfort us, guide us as we start to rebuild. Guide us as we clear the stones and rubble of our city. Guide us as we start to rebuild not just the physical — the homes and streets and buildings — but also the bonds that connect us to each other. Guide us to build a stronger City.
Peace be upon us all.
Chapter 3: Transformation
“There are few things more destructive to peace than the proud.”
Ayame woke from the darkness that consumed her from behind the podium. The ceiling of her room in the temple greeted her vision, a very familiar picture and one that was very comforting yet somewhat concerning. The last memory she had was talking to the crowd, asking Natu to bless the city which ended with applause.
It was a warm feeling, finally seeing people coming together, working together. It was nice to feel appreciated and that warmth coming from the crowd.
“Of course it was, you’ve worked so hard. Why shouldn’t you be proud of your accomplishments, Ayame?” a voice called from beside the bed.
Ayame almost jumped completely out of the bed. She never noticed the young woman sitting beside her, and was pretty sure she saved herself from looking completely like a fool by not yelling out in fear. She was never a fan of being startled which meant that Tasha was guaranteed to do it every few days.
Sometimes it took herculean feats to keep from yelling at the halfling priestess, but Tasha worked hard everyday and to do so would break her spirit.
“Time to get up as you’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”
The first thing that struck Ayame was the silvered hair that the woman wore. She was obviously human, but her hair most certainly was not. It almost seemed to absorb the meager light in the room, and was simply beautiful. Her eyes were just as stunning, but their silvered irises were just as alien as her hair.
The more problematic thing was that Ayame knew this woman. The way she pronounced her name, and the familiarity of her voice were comforting yet unnerving as she was very sure she had never met this woman in her life.
Ayame slowly got out of bed and walked to the wash basin to clean her face.
“So, who are you? I’m surprised Musume would let you into my room without asking for my permission first,” Ayame said as she towelled off her face and turned to face her guest. “We do welcome all into the church, but there are areas that are off-limits to those outside of the church.”
The woman paused for a moment after picking up a neatly folded set of robes, then walked over to Ayame.
“I apologize, but we’ll get that sorted here shortly. I’ve already prepared your robes and laid out your clothes which I hope are acceptable. Unfortunately, Tasha nor Musume were available to help you out this evening so let me help in their stead.”
Ayame’s brows furrowed as she stared at her visitor. “What do you mean? Where are they?” she said through gritted teeth. “What is going on?”
The woman patted the stack of clothing, smiled, then walked to the door leading out of Ayame’s room.
“You have a busy day ahead of you, your clergy have busy days ahead of them, and your friends do as well,” the woman said as she looked towards the window in Ayame’s room. “You should focus on yourself and your faith and let your friends face their challenges.”
“What do you mean by this?”
The woman smiled, bowed slightly, and left the room shutting the door behind her quietly.
Ayame walked over to her dresser where she kept her robes, but as she grabbed for the clothes in the drawer her hands simply passed through them. The clothes were there, but she had no way of holding on to them or even wearing them. To make things even more unusual was that any drawer she opened would close on its own as soon as she lost sight of it. Looking at her bed showed that it was perfectly made as if no one had even roused from it.
Her glance went back to the clothes that the silver-haired woman had laid out, and she sighed. This place looked like her room, and felt like the temple where she worshipped Natu, but nothing was as it seemed.
After picking up the clothes, Ayame quickly took off her nightshirt and went to put on the undershirt that she commonly wore under the robes. The shirt was ornate, but the back had been cut out leaving the neck as a simple hoop that was secured around her neck.
The robes weren’t really robes, at least not as she had known them. They had more material, but the cloth that ran down her back narrowed between her shoulder blades then widened and joined again as it approached her waist. The clothing was far less restrictive than her normal garb, but comfortable enough.
It certainly was fancy enough.
The cleric walked back over to her bed to grab her staff, but her hand simply passed through it as well. It was weird — she had relied upon it for so long that it was simply second nature to take it on her way out. She felt slightly naked without it.
A few more steps from the staff brought her to the door to her room, and two more took her out onto the staircase towards the main chamber.
The staircase and the side hall that it ran down was empty. The candles were lit, the floors were polished, but there were so many things wrong. There was no wear on the floors from the people that had used the church over the many years in Seclusion City. The windows had been replaced with ornate stained glass that she had never seen before. Even the walls were inlaid with silver and gold filigree, the stone polished so brightly that she could almost see her reflection.
The sound of her shoes as she walked down the steps echoed off the walls, cutting through the silence. The church seemed so cold without Tasha, Reckenbush, Musume — it was wrong.
People make a church, not the other way around, she thought to herself as she made her way into the main chamber.
“Ayame, I see the robes fit you well,” the silver-haired woman said from behind her. “I spent quite a bit of time on those though I worried I was wrong on the measurements.”
“Who are you?” Ayame asked again, but the woman simply smiled and motioned for her to follow.
The main hall of the temple was dark, only a few candles lit around the statue of Natu. In front of the statue were two chairs on opposing sides of a well-worn wooden table. In the middle of the table was a teaset, two cups of tea steaming as if just poured.
The woman walked across the hall and sat down, and motioned for Ayame to do the same.
“I will answer as many questions as I’m able to, Ayame, but we do not have all the time in the world to talk,” the woman said as she made a closing motion with her hands towards the main hall’s doors.
The doors closed firmly, the sound reverberating through the hall.
“My name is Himari. Today is your birthday, and I bring you your inheritance. Prepare yourself.”
A wind swept across the hall, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness. Ayame’s eyes quickly grew accustomed to the darkness to see the moonlight stream through the windows — Noctu’s silver gaze washing over the hall — wrapping her in the moon’s cold embrace.
Pain, as if a demon had dug its claws into her back, lit trails of fire across her shoulders and back. Daggers of ice dug into her skull as if she had been stabbed, and her assailant threatened to push that ice into her soul.
Ayame let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed across the hall as the pain increased, temporarily drowning out the sound of bones cracking and sinew reshaping itself akin to the sounds of a butcher shop.
Ayame.
The cleric fell to one knee, and even in the pain was surprised to see that she could still move through it. Her shadow seemed foreign to her as it stretched out in front of her.
Ayame.
The voice was so clear in the red haze of pain. The simple act of hearing her name brought her peace, brought her something to hold onto as she struggled not to be consumed by the pain and chaos inside herself. It was a voice she had heard many times before, but never understood what it was saying.
Ayame bowed before the statue of Natu, and began to pray.
Another streak of pain coursed through Ayame, but the voice seemed to make the pain happen to someone else. It was still Ayame, but it could have been happening to someone else. The hair that fell into her eyes seemed to be someone else’s, and the shadow before her was so foreign it could not have been hers.
Her hair had soaked in the moonlight, each strand dipped into a pool of silver and drawing up the magic of the brightest nights. Her pupils were two reflecting pools that shone as bright as any silver dragon’s scales.
Out of her back were two wings, feathers as white as new-fallen snow as were befitting of any Deva.
Ayame stood up slowly, taking in the room as her eyes pierced through the darkness as if it were midday. She stretched her arms and her wings, her gaze looking at them with a mix of puzzlement and astonishment.
“There is much to do, Ayame, and little time to do it,” Himari said as she stood and walked over to Ayame. “You have done great work, and I have no doubt that you will do so much more.
“You have built a great church, you have gathered devout and pious people, and have proven the power of Peace in a world full of chaos, but remember Natu’s wishes and her goals.”
“Himari, wha—”
“This is your challenge. Lead the church, the clerics, the paladins of Natu. Fall not into Pride, remain humble in your worship. Use your voice and the passion to gather and inspire those around you, follow your heart as Natu guides it.
“Leadership is not solely the realm of the Wise as wisdom does not spread through the hearts of the followers. Passion and devotion are just as important — for without those, who would be willing to share the bad times as well?”
“But I have! I’ve done everyth—” cried Ayame before being cut off.
Himari smiled, then held Ayame’s face in her hands for a moment as a troubled look came across her face. Himari softly wiped a tear away from Ayame’s face, then embraced her, bringing Ayame’s face into her chest.
“I know you have, Ayame,” Himari whispered into Ayame’s ear as the young cleric started to cry, the toll of the last few days finally crashing over her. “You are one of the fiercest clerics I’ve seen, but your battles from now on are different. Instead of protecting those through the might of your prayers and the power of your staff, you will unite people with the words from your mouth aided by your heart. Let Natu use you as her voice and lead those who would follow her.
“Lean on your priests, your clergy, your friends, and your family. We will not fail you.”
The final thing Ayame felt were Himari’s wings wrapping around her and the sound of Himari’s heartbeat as she slowly slipped away from the temple.
Himari slowly walked from the main hall, into the side hallway, then up the stairs into Ayame’s chambers. Celestials were immortal, but that didn’t mean that time had no meaning for them as they moved from moment to moment. At the top of the stairs, she looked around and wondered if Ayame had noticed. The temple had been so beautiful — small but so powerful in its faith. She had visited a long time ago and always felt at peace.
A few steps through the door brought Himari to the bed, and one more took her to Ayame’s staff, an ornately carved design with Noctu’s light etched in phases of silver along the shaft, the symbols of Natu traced in gold. Himari gently reached out for the staff, its crystal glowing in the slowly dimming light as she took hold of it. It had taken so much time to craft — tracking down the right tree, infusing it with magic and the prayers of Illiuth, carving the sigils and symbols.
It had found its home, it had found Ayame, and for that she would be ever grateful. It was the only thing she could really do for Ayame, but she hoped it was enough to keep her safe. It had been so very long since she had seen her last.
The lights started to dim, and Himari sighed. “It seems I have also run out of time here.”
“Illiuth, please hear my prayer and continue to protect my daughter,” she whispered under her breath before walking out of the void.
Magic Items
Ring of the Covenant
Requirements: Cleric, Druid, Paladin
From a normal view, the Ring of the Covenant appears to be a simple silver ring. Upon closer inspection, the ring is composed of interlocking rings that themselves are composed of smaller rings.
Crafted by Jurists of a previous age, the ring was used for a variety of reasons. It was considered a token of devotion between the greatest of friends and lovers, and a punishment for those who had forgotten what honor truly was. Unfortunately, the magical item is amazingly difficult to craft in this form due to the craftsmanship required to even get the ring close to its final form.
When wearing this ring, the wearer can touch another creature and with the blessing of their deity can seal that promise between both parties. If either the wielder of the Ring of the Covenant or the creature breaks the promise they made to the other, both immediately know the promise has been broken and the bond is thus broken. If this bond is broken by another spell, both the wearer of the ring and the other creature become immediately aware of the fact.
To create this bond takes 1 minute as a ritual and is considered permanent after the bond is created.
To craft a Ring of the Covenant, it requires one hundred perfectly crafted interlocked rings made of the purest silver worth approximately 1,000 gold pieces and must be crafted at noon during the summer solstice or during the first full moon after the winter solstice.
Ring of Unnatural Armor
The Ring of Unnatural Armor was the creation of a noble who looked upon the scaled creatures of the realm, and realized that with a bit of magic and a whole lot of gold, he could accomplish almost the same thing. Unfortunately, once nobles figured out that wearing the armor did the exact same thing as wearing the ring it quickly fell out of favor as armor looks much more impressive than a simple iron or leather ring. The other drawback is that while the armor is not physically on the body of the wearer, the idea of the armor is — along with all of the associated drawbacks.
However, once word came about that you could hide your armor whilst walking around: well, things became a lot more interesting for the rogues and assassins of the world.
The Ring of Unnatural Armor does not act like a Ring of Protection. The armor bonus granted by the ring is exactly the same as the armor used to craft the ring. The restrictions of the armor used to craft the ring are also exactly the same; the magic binds the user to the armor in the same way as wearing it, to include weight and movement restrictions and penalties.
If you attempt to wear a Ring of Unnatural Armor that was crafted with armor you are not proficient with, it is the same as wearing armor you are not proficient with. You cannot wear armor whilst wearing a Ring of Unnatural Armor, otherwise bad things will happen.
To craft a Ring of Unnatural Armor, it requires a ring made of cast iron, the armor to use as the base, and 2,000 gold pieces of materials. The armor and materials are consumed during crafting.
Cube of the Unreal
The Cube of the Unreal is a cube comprised of 8 smaller cubes akin to a puzzle cube. Each of the 8 smaller cubes is made of a seemingly different metal and inscribed with archaic runes that seem to shift as the user looks at it.
Once attuned, the cube is bonded to the wielder. The cube can be summoned and can cross between the Prime Material and Ethereal planes to the wielder’s person. This prevents the user from being stranded in the Ethereal Plane. However, this will not work if the cube has been taken apart, nor will this work if the cube no longer has any charges left to use.
The Cube of the Unreal comes with 8 charges, each smaller cube holding a charge. The things you can accomplish are as follows:
Create Portal. The Cube of the Unreal can create a 10’ by 10’ portal to either the Prime Material plane or the Ethereal plane. This portal lasts for up to 1 minute and may be dismissed by the user, and requires 1 charge to use.
Recharge. A wizard or sorcerer can use a 7th level spell slot to add a charge onto one of the small cubes.
Flee through the Veil. The cube can be taken apart with an Intelligence check (DC 20) and separated into its 8 smaller cubes. These cubes can be used individually to temporarily travel through the Ethereal plane for 1 round. This can be activated as a bonus action, and consumes the charge on the cube. This also breaks the attunement on the magic item.
Staff of Twilight
Requirements: Cleric, good aligned
The Staff of Twilight looks like a wooden staff made of darkened ash wood with a small cracked blue crystal embedded in the top. Until the user is attuned to the staff, it functions like a standard quarterstaff.
Once attuned, the staff transforms. The ash wood becomes brightly polished, and the crystal in the top of the staff starts to glow dimly with blue light. Carvings of dragons twirl up the staff with the crystal being set into the dragons’ jaws, the sapphire eyes of the dragons sparkling like the stars in the twilight.
Once attuned, the weapon grants the following benefits:
Expanded Prepared Spells. The following spells are considered prepared: Faerie Fire (1st), Moonbeam (3rd), Aura of Vitality (5th), Aura of Life (7th), Circle of Power (9th).
Sight of the Unseen. The staff, when commanded by the wielder, can cause the blue crystal in the staff to glow shedding light in a 30-foot radius and dim light for an additional 30 feet. Invisible creatures and objects are visible as long as they are in the staff’s bright light. The staff can also dim the light, reducing the light to dim light in a 5-foot radius.
Shadows of the Moon. You can see through the deepest gloom. You have darkvision out to a range of 300 feet. In that radius, you can see in dim light as if it were bright light and in darkness as if it were dim light.
As an action, you can magically share the darkvision of this feature with willing creatures you can see within 10 feet of you, up to a number of creatures equal to your Wisdom modifier (minimum of one creature). The shared darkvision lasts for 1 hour. Once you share it, you can’t do so again until you finish a long rest, unless you expend a spell slot of any level to share it again.
If the wielder of this weapon falls out of favor with their deity, the staff loses its benefits and turns into a cursed item. The crystal turns black along with the staff. The wielder cannot dispose of the weapon nor can the wielder use a different weapon. The weapon acts like a quarterstaff -1, and any attacks made by the weapon are at a disadvantage.
Ring of the Blessing of Natu
Requirements: Cleric of Natu
The Blessing of Natu is a finely-crafted silver ring, simple save for the fine lines that adorn the outside of the ring. Upon further inspection, each of the lines are sentences written in Celestial detailing the promise to Natu and the covenant that her followers have formed with her.
The ring must be attuned over the course of 8 hours which must be spent in prayer. If the cleric or paladin attuning to the ring has fallen out of favor with Natu, then the attunement process fails as only the dedicated can truly accept such a blessing from their deity. Secondly, an offering is required: specifically the purposeful, voluntary dedication of the soul to Natu. While this seems extreme, such a pact is made by the most dedicated of clergy to their deity, and this just reaffirms it.
If Detect Magic is used on the ring prior to attunement, it has a slight aura of Abjuration. If cast once attuned, then an ill-defined aura of Abjuration surrounds the cleric as if their deity is protecting them in a gentle embrace.
Once attuned, the ring grants the following benefits:
Bow of Light and Radiance. At will, the wielder can mock drawing a bowstring conjuring a longbow made of radiant light. Upon releasing the bowstring, an arrow made of light streaks towards the target of the attack. This magical attack uses the wielder’s spell attack modifier to hit the target causing 1d10 damage + 1d10 for every four levels the caster has after the first. A cleric may add their Wisdom modifier to the attack if they have the Potent Spellcasting feature. The attack has a range of 120 feet.
Embrace of the Goddess. The arms of Natu embrace the cleric, protecting them from attacks as would Half-Plate armor with the following exceptions and changes:
- There is no penalty to Stealth checks as the armor is ephemeral in nature and has no weight.
- The protection grants the wearer a +1 AC bonus, and +1 bonus to all saving throws.
- Any attempt to wear armor negates the effect of the embrace, removing all bonuses to the wearer until the armor is removed. This also includes any magical items that act like armor.
Judgement of the Worthy. The cleric can as a bonus action sacrifice a number of hit points up to twice their level + Wisdom modifier. Those hit points may be given to a willing target within 120 feet in order to heal them. Unwilling targets cannot be the target of this healing. This can be used a number of times equal to the cleric’s proficiency bonus and recharges after a long rest.