A new twist on the deck of many things with it’s own card game.
A gambler often on the move between towns. Unwittingly in posession of the Deck of Fate.
A small door, often wood but sometimes metal or stone, that is a doorway to an extra-dimensional room.
Chaos and Law have reached a comprmise and stopped thier warring. This truce holds as long as the respecitve priests honors the other’s ways for one day of the year. Lawful preists must incite a large decadant celebration or carelessness and the chaotic priests must chaperone the event and keep the party from turning ugly while remaining out of involvement. Thus the warring of the gods has been kept in check for decades and all is well. At least untill the materials for the party come up missing two short weeks before the truce day…
A full bearskin, paws with claws, head and teeth and such, to be worn as a warm and comfortable cloak.
Oh, and the spirit of the bear can be summoned to fight along side you as well.
Magic is like alcohol, the more that is used, the more it causes a hangover later on and the less judgement one has when using it. If one waits a while after casting a spell, things "detoxify." A cantrip or two is like a sip of weak beer, whilst a large creation spell is like a bottle of vodka. Cast something too big and you can die from magic intoxication.