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The witchwood is a soft, pliable tree that is reasonably common in the Empire; the wood is often used to decorate fine furniture or carved to make decorative friezes, puppets and children's toys. The wood is light and easy to shape, and has been used to craft wands since time immemorial. When a magical wand of this nature is made of a different material, it is often called a witch-something wand depending on what it is predominantly made of.

These wands are known by a variety of colloquial names - in parts of the Brass Coast it might be called a one-more-spell wand, while the mountebanks of the League call them lucky holdouts. It is common for magicians in many nations to give their wand a specific name, and refer to it as their companion - so in Varushka for example the wand may be referred to as a cabalist's companion. Some especially grump magicians call their witchwoof wand a reliable apprentice because it is always to hand and always ready to


  • Form: Wand.
  • Effect: While you are bonded to this wand you have one point of additional personal mana.
  • Materials: Crafting a witchwood wand requires seven measures of iridescent gloaming and five measures of beggar's lye. It takes one month to make one of these items.
The mountebank eyed the wand suspiciously, bending it first one way, then the other, and handed it back to the artisan in the feathered hat. “It’s a bit... bendy for a wand, isn’t it?” she said with a sniff.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, mein frau. That’s a Witchwood Wand. It’s witchwood. It’s not bendy, it’s pliable.”

“I’m not looking for pliable, I’m looking for reliable.”

“Hey, you’re a poet and-”

“Shut up," the mountebank said testily, "I’m not here to banter; I’m here because Henrietta said you were the woman to talk to about wands.”

“Trust me, it’s a real wand. It’s magic ‘cos it’s got a little bit of its own mana in it, and for a lady in a profession like yours, it’s that little bit of extra versatility that can make all the difference, am I right?”

The mountebank took the wand back and felt its heft in her hand. She swung it, and the tip wobbled comically. “I’m not sure I could take it seriously.”

“It’s as reliable as the next wand, I promise you. It’s pliable for reasons of symbolism. Versatility and all that.”

“Yes, you said that already. But what I still don’t know is-” she gave it another swing, and watched it whip briefly out of shape, “-why is it bendy?”

The artisan sighed. Some customers just didn’t want to be satisfied. “Because it’s made of witchwood, mein frau, and there’s a queue out the door for these things if you’re not interested.”