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Touch of the Caring Thief

wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement by a good aligned creature)

The Touch of the Caring Thief appears as a humble pair of worn leather gloves, their seams frayed and patches stitched over time. Yet, within their weathered exterior lies a potent magic that connects the wearer to both healing and thievery.

Healing Touch

While wearing these gloves you gain the ability to channel healing energy through your touch. As a bonus action, you can lay hands on an injured ally, healing them for + your Constitution modifier. The gloves seem to absorb the pain and transfer it into soothing warmth. Once you use this feature you cannot use it again until you complete a short or long rest.

Nimble Fingers

While wearing these gloves you have advantage on Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) checks to pick locks.

Not yet… Not yet

Once per day, you can cast the spell using the gloves. The target of the spell must be someone you truly care about, such as a friend, a lover, or a cherished companion.

Create printable cards for Touch of the Caring Thief

Credits

This item was made as a welcome gift for my Patreon supporter, leggyfanboy, who also helped me create the item and shared the story of Elanor.

The thief stared down at her fallen tiefling lover, and whispered a careful prayer. Her gloved hands clenching a Diamond as she whispered the words 'Not yet... Not yet.' Elanor opened her eyes to see her wish granted, and her lover breathing, but unconscious once more. With her love in her arms, she carried him off and vanished into the night to never be seen again. She nor her lover were seen again. A caring thief who stole for family and love, and her bard who stole her heart on a stormy night. Two idiots at a pub.

Lore

In the bustling city of Silverhaven, where shadows danced upon cobblestone streets and secrets whispered through tavern walls, there lived a rogue named Elanor. Her lithe frame moved with grace, and her eyes held the glimmer of mischief. But beneath her thieving exterior lay a heart burdened by love and loyalty.

Elanor's nimble fingers picked locks and pockets alike, earning her both coin and notoriety. Yet, her true purpose was far nobler. She stole to feed the hungry, to mend the broken, and to protect those who couldn't fend for themselves. Her victims were corrupt merchants, heartless nobles, and tyrants who squeezed the life from the common folk.
One stormy night, Elanor's path crossed with that of a wounded tiefling bard named Karis. His crimson skin bore the scars of battles fought, and his eyes held a melancholy tune. Elanor found him lying in a dank alley, bleeding from a dagger wound. Compassion stirred within her—a rarity for a thief—but she couldn't leave him to die.
With her worn leather gloves, Elanor pressed her hands to Karis' chest. The rain fell harder, mixing with her tears. She whispered a prayer, her voice barely audible over the thunder. “Not yet… Not yet.” The gloves absorbed her plea, channeling healing energy into Karis' broken form. His eyes fluttered open, and gratitude filled them. Elanor's heart swelled. She had stolen more than gold that night; she had stolen a life from Death's grasp.
Karis became her companion, and their love blossomed like a hidden flower in the city's shadows. They shared stolen kisses under moonlit eaves, and Elanor wove tales of daring escapes and secret rendezvous. Karis' songs echoed through the taverns, celebrating the caring thief who stole for love. Elanor and Karis found solace in the dim glow of taverns. They laughed too loudly, kissed too recklessly, and danced—awkward, untrained—on uneven floors. The patrons called them “those two idiots,” but envy glimmered in their eyes. For who wouldn't trade gold for such love?
But fate is a fickle mistress. The powerful lord, Lord Malachus, harbored a grudge against Elanor. His greed knew no bounds, and he sought to crush anyone who dared defy him. He dispatched his deadliest assassins—silently, mercilessly—to eliminate Elanor and all she held dear.
One moonless night, as Elanor and Karis lay entwined in each other's arms, the assassins struck. Their blades glinted in the darkness, seeking Elanor's heart. But she was prepared. Karis fought alongside her, his bardic magic weaving illusions and confusion. Blades clashed and blood stained the cobblestones. But one assassin slipped through, a blade aimed at Karis' heart. Elanor's heart screamed, and she lunged. She tried to intercept the blade, but she was too late. The assassin's strike had been true. Karis fell, his eyes locking with Elanor's. She cradled him in her arms, tears streaming down her face. The remaining assasins used the momentary pause from her daggers to flee.
Elanor pressed her hands to Karis' chest, channeling the magic of the gloves. The gloves flared with light, but nothing happened. Remembering powerful magic she had seen performed by clerics, she pulled a diamond from her pouch. Her gloved hands clenching the diamond, she whispered the words 'Not yet... Not yet.' again. Elanor opened her eyes to see her wish granted, and her lover breathing, but still on death's door.
With her love in her arms, she carried him off and vanished into the night to never be seen again. She nor her lover were seen again.

Tags:ability checkadvantagehealinglorepatreonrevivesleight of hand