Yes, it’s the wise old man you alway knew you’d meet.
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.
Nearly every primitive culture has had rituals and celebrations to guarantee the proper passage of the seasons and to ensure the fertility of crops and animals. Oversight of these ceremonies was generally the provenance of local kings or priests.
Suppose that the adventurers dispatch one of these fellows. The local peasants may become hysterical, fearing famine and death will stalk the land. Alternatively, they may want one of the new heroes to become king. For a while, this can be a good thing, but the first time that the crops fail, the superstitious locals will want to sacrifice their new leader.