Magical Weapons - GLOGtober Day 4

 I was going to participate in GLOGtober, but then I didn't and now I'm three days late. Ah, well. I probably won't catch up but I will write something that can be tenuously considered GLOGtober appropriate to the prompt. Here are some weapons that can be used as +1/+2 weapon substitutes. If you don't care about balance or quality, that is. Also none of them are swords because swords are overrepresented.

 

Spear of Chaos Evocation

This spear has its head made out of an unidentified iridescent metal. The shaft is sturdily built and good quality, but it's not magical. You could probably use the head itself as a makeshift dagger, or attach a magical staff in place of the shaft. Who knows what will happen?

This spear has a direct connection to the primordial chaos that preceded creation as we know it and still lurks beneath its skin. When an enemy is hit with it chaos manifests itself where the wound should be, in the form of a swirling rainbowy vortex. (There, this is a GLOGtober post now) The chaos wound doesn't hurt more than a usual wound would and doesn't bleed. It mostly just feels really weird to the wounded person. The spear will only inflict one such wound on a single enemy. Further stabs just create regular bleeding wounds. However, on an attack roll of natural 20, the person wielding the spear can jam it once again into the vortex. This causes the chaos wound to enemy to collapse into the vortex and implode in a spectacle of rainbowy swirls and gore. At GM's discretion this may not work on particularly large or armored enemies, only destroying a large chunk of their body in  the former case, or not being able to activate the vortex at all in the latter.

The Spear only works on living, or at least ambulatory beings. Trees and golems are okay. Doors and furniture are not. The Spear's magical qualities advance entropy very slightly with each use and brings the ultimate return of the primordial chaos a little bit closer. Good thing there are g_ds out there actively opposing it with creation, or it would be a major dick move. Their servants are still unlikely to be happy to see you use this weapon, though.

Twin Arrows of Melodramatic Plot Contrivance

If your universe has any depictions of chubby cherubim with little bows, the PCs will probably recognize these arrows. They appear to be made of rose gold (which really can't be practical) but are  somehow light enough to be shot out of a bow normally. To add insult to the injury, the heads are shaped like little hearts.

If two intelligent beings are hit with the arrows, they start seeing a red string connecting them. No one else can see the string and it cannot be cut. The string can't go through walls, but it does go through keyholes and cracks beneath doors. Additionally, the connected beings are unable to feel hate or choose to directly harm each other. They are aware it's caused by a magical effect and in most cases will consider it an unpleasant intrusion. A light prick is enough for the arrows to work. A person holding the arrow may choose to prick themselves or another willing being without inflicting damage to HP.

The enchantment is broken if one of the enchanted beings dies, if they kiss, or if it is dispelled by a powerful magic user. It doesn't count as a curse. Whoever the misguided matchmaker that created these was, they clearly considered it a blessing.

The Centiflail

On first inspection this weapon appears to be a metallic model of a centipede, about a meter long. Its legs are pointed and sharp, several pairs are missing near the rear end, allowing for easy grip. Using it to fight would be an experience somewhere between trying to hit people with a length of chain, a flail, and a live snake. Thankfully, the Centiflail comes to life in combat situations. The experience remains largely unchanged, except the snake is now cooperative and semi-intelligent. Still, it allows the weapon to be used effectively.

On a natural attack roll of 19 or 20 the Centiflail will leave its wielder's hand and attach itself to the target, where it will coil around the neck or other vulnerable area and stab them with its sharp metal legs, dealing 1d6 damage per round. The Centiflail can be dislodged if the victim spends a round fighting it and passes a STR check. If it's dislodged, it will attempt to return to the owner. If the enemy is killed while the Centiflail is coiled around them, it will then spend a turn messily cracking open bones and sucking out marrow, before returning to a dormant state when it can be picked up. If someone tries to pry it away from its meal, they will be met with aggression. It won't object to the body being moved, however.

Glass Spike

This "weapon" appears to be a spike of bluish glass about 60cm long. There are brown-ish traces in a thin, hollow chamber in the middle. It could be used as an overlong shiv, or maybe you could attach a shaft to it and make it into a makeshift polearm or ice axe. Unless you figure out something clever, it's probably going to have at least -1 to attack rolls. The spike is not fully real, and manifests itself completely only in liminal spaces (hospitals, rarely-used crossroads, most dungeons). In all other situations it appears translucent (more than glass usually is), distant to the senses, easy to be disregarded or forgotten. Wounds inflicted by it hurt less, but are no less dangerous. When its tip makes contact with blood it is sucked inside, but does not drip out the Spike's other end.

The Spike originates from the Glass Fields, as a protrusion of one of the Blood-Knots, sentient masses of blood flowing through labyrinths of glass. The Spike is still connected to its native Knot, which receives all the blood flowing through. The Blood-Knot is aware of those donations and is willing to teach the person wielding the Spike in return. For every 25 HP of damage dealt to things that have blood roll on the following table. The insight comes to them next time they sleep restfully or enter a wistful mood. They realize a warm, flowing, inhuman intelligence is contacting them, but don't know the specifics.

1. The susurrating language of bloodstreams. They mostly know a lot about the bodies they course through, but not much else. Conversations with them tend to go in loops. The constant murmur of your own blood is kind of comforting, though. Strong streams and hydraulic installations speak a related dialect, you might be able to achieve a basic understanding.
2. How to still the flow, and live. You can stop your heartbeat at will to enter a lethargic state where you can't act, but perceive normally. In that time you appear to be dead by most metrics. You can also choose to stop your heart for good and die, if you ever need to.
3. A path sideways through reality. After an hour's meditation you and your companions can step over to the Glass Fields, the Blood-Knot's native half-reality. Not that there's much reason to. It's a pretty miserable place. Unless, of course, you'd very much like to stop being wherever you are at present. Going back to full reality from the Fields is a relatively straightforward process. You'll reappear at a place you consider safe, but you can't know with certainty whether that will mean the last inn you slept in, or the barren patch of land where your home used to be, three continents away.
4. The power in perpetuity and repetition. Decide upon a simple activity, like moving rocks from one place to another, burying bodies, cooking soup, etc. As long as you do only that one thing, without breaks or interruptions, you can do it for days on end, while your mind enters a state of obsessive mania.

When a single person has acquired all four insights, the Spike will cease siphoning blood and become a regular sharp piece of dull glass. The Blood-Knot is sated, for now.

Shiv of Tetanus

This weapon could, generously, be called a very shitty dagger. The blade is rusted and dirty, no amount of vigorous scrubbing can clean it. The guard is crudely sculpted in the shape of a human stretched into an arch. The hilt is always slightly sticky. Thankfully, the dagger is magical. That means that, when used, it feels only like a slightly below-average dagger.

The Shiv has been eternally imbued with a magically-enhanced strain of tetanus, speculated to be the magnum opus of an ancient goblin filthomancer. A person hit with the Shiv has to make a save vs disease. If they fail they'll drop to the floor and quickly stretch into the painful shape of an arch in 1d6 rounds, as the disease causes their muscles to be pulled taut against their will. If the save succeeded, that being is immune to the disease until next sunrise. Attempting more than one infection is against the magic tetanus honor code. Besides the accelerated speed of infection, it has symptoms and methods of treatment the same as regular tetanus. I don't know what those are, I'm not a doctor.

The names of those are all terrible, in the unlikely event you use them, please make your own names.