One piece per slot, carried into every descent. Bonuses add to your forge upgrades and wave boons under the same stacking ceiling — nothing here compounds twice.
A soldier’s blade, still sharp enough to matter.
Quenched in cinders. Brutes remember it.
Reaps through a whole line, but the drum runs shallow.
Banded iron from a watch that no longer exists.
Plate cooled in the Styx; the weight settles the hands.
Cut from something that never wanted to be found.
The ferryman’s fee, worn smooth by dead thumbs.
Every bone in it belonged to a slayer before you.
A fragment of an oath sworn before the gate was built.