A tale of a ring maker and the perils of magic.
The Ring Maker
There was once a ring maker of Glimwood skilled at the making of fine jewelry, he lacked knowledge of the art of spellbinding. Men from around the world had always come to Toal's shop to buy the prettiest rings to please their wives and lovers, but business had been poor of lote. Jeweled rings had come into fashion and his clients went elsewhere for their trinkets of love. Ulliam knew little of spellbinding, but decided he had little choice but follow fashion wherever it led.
He began with small red and blue gems, which, as any spellbinding novice knows, are the most benign of jewels. Flush with success, he sought more exotic gems and, one day, found himself in possession of a stock of green jewels. Ignoratn to their ill effect on the wearer, Ulliam mounted them into rings. The effect, however, was small; a few were sickened, fewer still seriously.
When, however, he chose to add striking purple shards to his designs, the wearers were not stricken ill, they died. It took little time to guess at the cause of these deaths and an armed party soon arrived to confront the ring maker. Ulliam fell to his knees and swore that his rings were not to blame, so the leaders of his own village had him locked away for safekeeping until the charges could be proven.
A mage arrived to inspect the ring and there was no doubt in his learned mind. The town warden condemned the ring maker to death by the means of his victim's choosing, as was custom. The husbands of the dead women selected one of Ulliam's own rings as the instrument of execution and he died, painfully and loudly, within days.
Let the folly of Ulliam and his desire for glory and profit serve as lesson to those who would trifle with the magic of gems.