|Dexterous Cyan Reaver Claw||474||126||506||Cyan Justice: Chance for bonus damage; Extra damage per piece of Cyan Reaver set worn; Extra damage against Dragon raids||Crafting|
|Sinister Cyan Reaver Claw||354||246||416||Cyan Justice: Chance for bonus damage; Extra damage per piece of Cyan Reaver set worn; Extra damage against Dragon raids||Crafting/General/Events|
|Cyan Reaver Helm||240||360||330||Cyan Justice: Chance for bonus damage; Extra damage per piece of Cyan Reaver set worn; Extra damage against Dragon raids||Crafting/General/Events|
|Cyan Reaver Wings||240||360||330||Crafting/General/Events|
|Cyan Reaver Arm Blades||240||360||330||Crafting/General/Events|
|Cyan Reaver Legplates||240||360||330||Crafting|
|Cyan Reaver Foot Blades||240||360||330||Crafting/General/Events|
Full Set Bonus
|Raid Attack Value: 2571|
|Duel Power: 2100|
|I. "Nice job killing those bandits, %name%," the peasant woman says.
"Thanks," you reply. Then you frown. "Wait... Which bandits?"
"The Night Splitters."
You contemplate this for a moment or two, just to make sure you aren't forgetting something. You've killed rather a lot of enemies since the day you left Burden's Rest. They can't expect you to keep track of all of them.
"Sorry," you say at last, "I think you're mixing me up with someone else."
|II. "No! You killed them!"
Her voice is so firm, her eyes so insistent, that you begin to wonder if you're wrong. Night Splitters... Night Splitters...
"Lucian..." you say.
The scholar saunters over.
"...did we ever kill anyone called the Night Splitters?"
|III. "Let me see..." he says.
Lucian reaches into his pack and pulls out a sheaf of inked parchment pages. He proceeds to do battle with them, as only a scholar can. After some moments he shakes his head.
"No," he says. "We never encountered any bandits by that name."
"Maybe you didn't," the woman says, "but the dragon-rider here did!"
Once again there's that unshakeable certainty in her voice. You and Lucian look at one another and shrug.
|IV. "I saw you with my own eyes!" she continues. "Course, I didn't hang around for long. Not with all those spears and all that blood flying all over the place. I ran. But I saw what you did to those first ones. You tore them up with your claws!"
"Claws?" you say.
"The long blue ones!"
You withdraw to your tent and proceed to rummage around. Some minutes later you emerge, with knitted brows.
|V. "Someone's stolen my equipment!" you say.
"What?" Lucian says. "All of it? They must've had a convoy of wagons!"
"No, just the stuff made from Nimrod."
"Ah. I suppose that's the downside of having such a vast quantity of arms and armor. It makes it rather difficult to ascertain if a particular handful of items have gone missing."
"Where did 'I' kill these Night Splitters?"
The woman stares at you as though you're some form of dangerous lunatic, but she provides the requisite directions.
|VI. It doesn't take long to find the site of the battle. Even a blind %man% couldn't miss the stench of all those corpses. And it doesn't take a ranger or a guardsman to read the signs written in footprints and gore. This was a one %man% massacre. A single person armed with your missing claws and bladed armor cut through these brigands like... Well, like you, when you cut through brigands.
A lone set of tracks, presumably belonging to the thief, leads away from the scene of slaughter. They disappear over the hard forest floor, but point you in the direction of a small town.
You know enough about small town life to head straight for the tavern. Gossip's never far from the tankards. Thus a few minutes later a grinning barkeep's telling you the story of the Cyan Reaver -- defender of the innocent, scourge of the local banditry, and occasional patron of his fine establishment. Apparently the %man% drinks there without removing %his% mask or revealing %his% identity.
|VII. You don't have time to wait around. So you scrawl a note, which the barman agrees to pass along to the mysterious warrior.
I love what you do. But next time, please ask before you borrow my stuff.