Made out of the tail-hairs of a Girsh. Enhances perception.
You can’t tell safe water from bad, well unless there is a pile of rotting bones in it with not a scrap of flesh left on ‘em and then it’s pretty obvious.
PVT. Quinn, memoirs
When you face a foe in desperate life-or-death combat, there’s nothing like getting good and liquored up first…
There are those as rich as kings but dress as peasants and worry not about funding. To visit their true homes one would see wealth of untold value scattered as dirt is in a hut. They know the monetary value of their possessions but they have long lost any true value to their owners. Experience is their currency and their curse. They dispense secrets of the ages as if discussing the weather. Few things have they not experienced so that very little gives them joy. They are the lost ones looking for new life while humoring the mortals around them.