Soulless Mace

Soulless Mace

Forged in a place beyond light, the Soulless Mace has traded its warmth for the cold silence of the void. Its head is swallowed in shifting shades of black, faint gray echoes rippling across the surface like the last traces of a soul long since departed. The handle fades to nothing, a shadow given form and purpose. To wield it is to swing a fragment of emptiness itself — silent, merciless, and utterly without light.