The axe, candle and pelt-cloak of my recent slavic witch character! The thaumaturgical impliments she uses to rid the world of evil, be it magical or mundane.
Her mothers axe, a lumberjack with a love of the forest. Made of humble oak and iron, turned to a fearsome weapon in the right hands.
Her fathers candle, a scribe who had a knack for uncovering truth. Now burning as long as the one who holds it.
Her grandfather's pelt, a man first cursed and then blessed by a ursine transformation. Heavy when comforting, light when worn.