A very useful tool for a worker of magic.
“Something weird heah! Get yer weird things!” I raised an eyebrow. Street vendors rolled by the Woflo Inn about five hundred blighted times a day, screeching like strangled gulls. I got sick of the racket by the second day, but it was midsummer, and closing the shutters would’ve choked us with the heat. Blight take this human city anyway, I'd take the Altanian jungles if I had a choice. At least there are no street vendors there.
Chav was on her feet and grabbing for her belt pouch like a shot. “Where are YOU going?” I drawled.
“You GOTTA come see this, Eve! This guy is great!” And with that, she was right out the door and pelting down the stairs.
“Something weird heah! Get yer weird things riiiight heah!”
Med-pods, med-bays, and a dozen trade marked names, all for the technomagical healing bed.
A bag of enchanted beans. Dare you plant them?
Created by the god of madness, one must be at least a little insane to be able to use them. These tools cause much confusion to those that see them in action and are guaranteed to cause misunderstandings.
Are they really lucky or the GM is toying with me?
Instrument or Monument? These blur that line.
The product of the Entwiner’s art, this net is carefully crafted with nearly invisible knots in its fine mesh. These knots speak in the language of Entwining Magic, the words of keeping and holding.
The Deck of Shadows is bound to other dimensions through demonic blood magic infused in the wood, and the eldritch essence woven into the vivid paintings on the cards.
Magic that really gets under your skin.
An ancient shrine of a mischievous goddess. The proper offering will give you her blessing, but 'ware you don't feed her wrong!
To fly. One of man's oldest and fondest dreams. To soar above like a bird, for the joy of it, to explore, or to strike at one's enemies. It is only natural that magic would be turned towards granting this wish.
The three sacred relics of Ahkti.
Dentures, magic dentures.
Six powerful substances as described by Hachnar the Alchemist
Magic, by its very nature, would greatly help not just the PCs, but the masses, too. Here are some magic items that the commoners's use.
A toilet that teleports your feces onto the PottyPortal's Poop Hill.
The relic of an old Sorcerer, the Glyph of Tarnos Krae is a window into the past.
"Please, there must be something you can do. Oh if he'd just managed to keep his eyes open, two more minutes would have been enough."
The old clock tower stands tall, but the bulk of the uppermost storey is crumbling and unsafe, with gaping cracks in the walls. The metal struts and girders supporting the great bronze bells are still intact, though, and the bells survive. The grotesque gargoyles and arabesques which decorated the original design have either fallen into the street (once or twice a year more bricks fall from the tower, prompting calls for its demolition) or have been defaced, but the main doors to the clock tower are still intact and show signs of being kept in working order. This is the home of The Captains, clad in raggedy clothes, with sooty faces, and perpetually runny noses. But behind each set of eyes is the look of a survivor. They live to stick together and make it through each day. Older than their years in many ways, the friendship they share with each other and Wims ghost keeps the core of a childs innocence and hope alive in each. But they are still very suspicious of outsiders. They are a group of street children who live in the clock tower. Some are orphans, some runaways, and some nomads who occasionally return to their homes. But they’re all poor, dirty and perpetually hungry, as well as being wily, unscrupulous and mischievous in a fairly brutal way. Enough of them have suffered at the hands of adults for all of them to be wary of any grown-ups, particularly ones who ask too many questions, although with hard work and a lot of food it might be possible to win the confidence or even the trust of a few of them.