The bolt whistles from your crossbow, a slender shaft of ironwood etched with glowing silver runes that flare against the twilight. It pierces the veil between worlds, trailing wisps of ethereal frost that shimmer like spider silk. As it strikes, fey flesh sizzles and blackens, the air thick with the acrid tang of banished glamour.
| # | Type | Name |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Ammo | Bolt of Fey Slaying |