Invented by the Pelezians, the ceremonial bowl became a part of the holy tradition, coupled with a most practical purpose.
(Made for religions of agriculture.)
After long pondering and some testing, the Asakran army has finally allowed the use of advanced magic on the battlefield. This is the prototype of intense research.
An item of legend, that may not even exist. But many still desire it, and many fear its possible use.
A little prank that has found its uses. Shaving razor.
Getting the favour of a Necromancer, and asking for a magical cloak? Sure, why not.
A strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret…
Most Orbs study humanoids in one way or another. But only one makes this a full-time job, in its own way…
The Heart that beats slowly in the dark.
A guaranteed life-saver in some situations, a good armor anytime. Several miraculous death-and-return situations were observed on its wearers, but seldom attributed to the simple leather armor.
Deep within a strange labyrinth, a book wields the magic of its former master. Illusion becomes reality.
A pilgrim’s protection, an assassin’s friend, a weapon of no great power.
A weapon of surprise.
The finest ring of them all, brings Life wherever it ends up. You may need its powers, but will you accept all that will be drawn to it?
Will certainly not be suspected, a bad luck charm for everyone around.
One of the things you always carry around, and never give it a second look. But even a second look would not help to reveal this one.
Looks to be a weak necromantic item.
A powerful ring of many protective powers, which has its few downsides.
This tome may give you the information you seek, though you may not be happy reading it. Not really cursed, but gives the information in such a way that many readers despaired before finding the right knowledge.
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.