Eagerly, the imp reached under the bed and pulled the items out, recognizing the telepathic source as Barjin’s magical mace. “Screaming Maiden,” Druzil said, echoing the item’s telepathic declaration and examining the crafted item. Its obsidian head was that of a pretty young girl, strangely innocuous and appealing, but Druzil saw through the grotesque facade. He knew it was not a weapon crafted on the Prime Material Plane, but one that had been forged in the Abyss, or in the Nine Hells, or in Tarterus, or in one of the other lower planes.
