View table: equipment

The runes encircling this ring appear to have been scratched into the metal with a rock.

Wearing this "plus one" garment allows you to bring one additional person to a wedding or any other similar occasion.

A year into their union, Lenore, cleric of Mystra, gifted the gnome inventor Yrre an invention of her own devising - a ring that held a spell of sparks. Eventually, the touch of Lenore's hand faded to a glinting memory, but the ring's tingling grip remained resolute.

Attached to this shield is a faded note. 'G, I've found the best defence against an arrow is to be the one behind the bow - but this shield also does the trick in a pinch. Yours, AA'

Many a Githyanki hunter has worn this amulet before you. The strange stones set in swirling silver reverberate with echoes of their magic.

The interlocked bronze links of this necklace tinkle softly every time you move.

Adorned with the tripartite symbol of the Absolute, this ensemble of black and green presents the wearer as either a mocker or a devotee of the cult. Or someone who likes the cut and colour. Or someone who is cold.

The Absolute's power radiates from this shield, invisible waves of energy beckoning to the Branded.

This ring coaxes anyone branded by the Absolute. Their fingers veritably itch to slip it on.

Stained by blood, and gifted to only the most faithful of True Souls to help preserve their lives.

Blood is smeared across the shield's face, exalting wielders who bear the Absolute's mark.

Demons will bite their masters, slaves, comrades, and, on occasion, themselves. They bite on principle, and are functionally piranha with extra steps.

These flexible shoes were once owned by Audreyne Willoughs, who, in a somewhat ironic twist of fate, ran away from the circus to join her parents back home.

The adamantine scales hug your body like a second skin - a heavy, near-impregnable skin.

The dull shine of the adamantine promises this shield could take a thousand beatings -- and still look as good as new.

The adamantine plates lock and slide together perfectly - offering protection against even the deadliest of blades.

Grated and fixable, so the wearer might gulp cool air during a fight.

Love is the last cruel leaf to fall in an autumn wide with sorrow.

An unusual piece, this gold-studded amethyst caused a stir at the Wide plaza in Baldur's Gate

An unusual piece, this gold-studded amethyst caused a stir at the Wide plaza in Baldur's Gate

The silver band's cool undertones highlight this ring's vivid purple gemstone.

The silver band's cool undertones highlight this ring's vivid purple gemstone.

A silver amulet depicting the symbol of Bhaal.

Though thin and delicate-looking, the amulet's pendant sits heavy against your chest.

Each jewel gleams with the energy of the natural elements.

Worn by Lumi, a cleric beholden to twilight, who sheltered her fellow adventurers as a bantam shelters her chicks.

This necklace allows the wearer to cast Misty Step. Made of blue gems unique to a privately-owned mine in Menzoberranzan, this necklace was likely a token of esteem - or perhaps a desperate attempt to win its recipient's mercy.

The gemstone centrepiece of the amulet was long ago mottled and dyed by the tears of a martyr.

The gems and pearls of this necklace have a brilliant shine to them, as if reflecting unseen moonlight.

This amulet, engraved with a small waterfall, imparts a feeling of calm serenity when worn.

Otto, a member of the powerful arcane organisation the Circle of Eight, had a penchant for amulets. So much so that they announced his arrival before he ever needed to.

Donning this necklace causes the room to sway and tip - or maybe it was already swaying? Whatever, time for another pint.

Nobility can be found in suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. So can dying. Best to be on guard.

Once part of the Girdle of Blades, this buckle was torn off and fashioned into an amulet that can be worn by creatures of all sizes.

Heavily embossed with filigree, this necklace reflects light in all directions.

There is something of the blue-blooded rebel in this outfit, of the bandit princess or prince stealing blunder and hearts.

There is something of the pale-white-toothed rebel in this outfit, of the bandit princess or prince stealing plunder and hearts.

Fanned out in two angelic-broad wings.

Golden vambraces and arm rings surmount this divine set

These boots are well-maintained and clean, though their soles are thin from wear.

Layered sheets of smelted, shaped, and smithed steel have been etched with a sweetly luminous gold. Its outward appearance is heavy. And yet it's so light when you lift it, like lifting a bag of shrunken dead leaves.

The soft hum of a fervent prayer reverberates throughout the armoured plates.

Smelling of long-abandoned gardens grown wild with thorny roses, moss and hibiscus, this armour was worn by a powerful druid who spent so long from people that she forgot to miss them.

This armour was designed by lunar-obsessed Cuthbertina, a gnomish arcane smith who now lives peacefully on a mountain plateau with her magical forge.

Great sheets of steel were hammered and bashed into something like a carapace, thick and dense - you can almost feel the hammer blows, flooded with rich magic.

According to one story, this armour was enriched by the cascading spores of a myconid sovereign, its great fungal head shimmering and twinkling as it shook upon the material.

Long ago, Kushigo was a warrior. Bedecked in an enormous set of plate steel, its shoulder pauldrons fashioned like great antlered stags, his arrival on a battlefield spelled doom for the enemy.

Yet this armour - so light and fine - speaks nothing to that legacy.

When he was killed, Bhaal's blight upon the world was not destroyed. For the many people upon whom he had sired his spawn slithered out of tainted wombs, and with their arrival Bhaal's malcontent returned with force.

A once-fine shirt that's seen years of cuts, tears, and careful repairs. Clearly someone cares about looking good.

Embroidered into the cloth: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.'

Backless so that people can pat you on the back and proclaim, 'I say, lovely outfit.'

What better way to disguise one's transgressions than a quickly positioned phantasm after the deed is done?

This lightweight armour appears to have been quickly produced, skipped stitches and fraying edges betraying the inattention of its maker.

A rough combination of furs, leathers, and supple fabrics, made for a life outside civilisation.

A rough combination of furs, leathers, and supple fabrics, made for a life outside civilisation.

The bark motifs in this armour are like the boles of oak trees in a wood where the acorns slept long and grew proud.

Necklace the Gnoll Master gave Barnabus when she first met him.

A lute with the initials AC meticulously carved into the body

The green jewel set into this necklace's pendant is carved to resemble a cat's slivered pupil.

Bhaal, Lord of Murder, was forced to walk the world as a mortal man during a period of history called the Time of Troubles. He was more vulnerable than he had ever been. But Bhaal was cunning. He had contingencies in case he died.

When the Lord of Murder, Bhaal, was rendered mortal, he knew his days were numbered. His vile machinations had gained him many enemies. Those days ran out and Bhaal was indeed killed, not by a god, but by a man with hawkish features named Cyric.

A battered two-point hat that's seen the wear and tear of rebellion.

Revenge is best served. Hot or cold makes no difference.

'The thing that you poor sods simply cannot grasp is how effortless all this magical hootie-wootie castie-spellsie business is for me!’ - A very stupid sorcerer at a wizard academy ball.

A minimalist leather binding get-up that clings to the skin and creaks just the slightest bit when you move.

For some paladins, the iron-clad grip that an oath holds can be too much to bear. When these champions fail and falter, their hands that would guide turn cold, hard, and piercing.

Clad on the desiccated feet of a death knight, these boots have walked a long and terrible path. They strode through the tattered remains of their owner's oath. With every heavy footstep, they have sounded pure fear into the hearts of men.

To break one's oath is a dangerous game - it marks you as a faithless cur, an exile without a cause. The armour is tempered by an age of rocks, blades, and persecution turned against it - and is buffed by the immutable, unbindable will of its wearer.

Flowing like a horsetail, black as night.

The brutish thuggery of the Enforcer's position is summarized in this helmet's design.

Even though the embroidered velvet won't help against a sharp blade, wearing it fills you with self-assuredness.

No sooner does blood speck the armour than it's absorbed, as if sustaining something within.

Tiny specks of blood cover this amulet. They have pooled into the engravings on the back, spelling out the name 'Wulbren' in a grisly brown hue.

The garnet embedded in this tarnished ring has been lovingly polised - the band worn thin from use.

A minimalist leather binding get-up that clings to the skin and creaks just the slightest bit when you move.

Armour designed for the aerodynamic leaping and striking and general screaming of your standard barbarian.

Sharp juts and knobbly nodules of bone stud this armour, as if something ancient sank its teeth deep into the leather and they got stuck there.

These gloves were soaked in the marrow of a Dragon Turtle, its bones broken and their fluid drained in sloppy chunks into vats.

The tibia of a storm giant was ground and chiselled and reworked till it became this helm. The wearer can actually smell summer tempest clouds like maroon-dark dread while wearing the helm.

Sturdy and well-worn, these boots make a snug fit on any wearer.

Practical jokes with these boots often involve all your stuff being stolen by opportunistic cousins.

Fizzling barbs of enchantment magic crackle from the laces of these boots.

Tiny bells are sewn into the boots' cuffs. They jingle subtly with every step.

Toughened metal boots, highly insulated with heavy leather and padding for use in any and all elements.

The soles of these boots warp and shift like warm clay manipulated by an unseen sculptor's hands.

When not atop their dragons, gith are not particularly air-worthy. This is probably for the best. The imposition of downward gravity tends to put most people in a mood.

Featherlaced and flexible of sole, these boots have been used to round up - and outrun - many a foe.

Peals of thunder rumble at the back of your skull with every step taken in these boots.

The metal of these greaves is comfortably warm against your shins, as though heated by your mere presence.

During a hilltop battle that soaked the slopes in gore, Kushigo's best friend Irishi was scalped before he could help her.
The enemy held up the bloody wig, and Kushigo fell upon one, and then another, until he had killed so many that they hung from his antlered shoulders like skewered effigies.

You can cast Misty Step, with the caveat that you will teleport leaving your clothes behind.

Delicate twists of magical iron - painstakingly gilded - have been fashioned into these fortifying vambraces.

A common ring, simple and unadorned. Though there is a certain heft to it...

What was life like before the mind flayers snatched you up? Road dust clots your boots, campfires roar up and diminish, faces swim by.

More and more that life distances itself like some other world. A dream world maybe, glimpsed now and again through a gauze.

Somewhere deep in the spongy grey matter and little jiggly bits that comprise the brain, the memory of the slimy tadpole slithering over your eyeball lingers...

Slightly tarnished, and opened with a mere flick of the thumb.

This standard-sized breastplate is lined with thick padding meant to cushion the wearer and deflect blows from assailants. The uniform squares of the padding suggest a mathematically-mind crafter.

This breastplate is crafted in the specialty style of a mysterious armourer in Amn known only as 'The Tailor.'

This garment's previous owner left a few minor personal effects in its inner breast pocket: a scrap of sassafrass, a short bit of thread, and half a peppermint.