A wet brown sack… FULL OF MAGGOTS!
Tired of giving your players a cache of non-descript diamonds, plain amethysts, and simple sapphires?
Stand out in the wind on a hilltop where the grass is stirred by a starry sky and gaze into the black vault for long enough to witness Helda sow her seed.
Hold through, little Selva, do not close your eyes. It is not sleep, that comes so lightly to you. Soon you will rest under the Shroud, and wake up when the spring comes.
The tears of a blinded god created it.
Life is like a cheese, it starts off milk, then it curdles, and then it ages and you hope for the best.
Here lad, you take it. We’ve been through a lot this pot and I, ever since the last Great War, but you’re too young to remember that one. I had this with me in all my campaigns after that. The Althial Border Wars, the rising of the Dragon Lords, the Dwarven Rage… Ah but I’m old and toothless now an’ it’s no use to me. Take the pot lad, use it well. At least you’ll always be guarenteed a reasonable meal
The Sergeant did not have to clear his throat. He could just begin - at full volume - and instantly quiet the room of recruits. "The Remote Gun Platform. You worms would know it as a Tankbot. Is your best friend on the battlefield next to the guy sitting beside you. You will come to love this thing for its functionality, its ability to see the enemy, and for its ability to be blown up instead of you. "
A tool for Diviners, a toy for children. These little orbs have many uses.
Sure you loot the area, but what about the creatures’ actual coffins that they were buried in?
The fey are strange, but occasionally, just occasionally, their actions make sense.
A magical rope with many useful properties.
Find a penny, pick it up.
And all the day you’ll have good luck.
Here is a list of those not-so-attractive treasures that the PC’s might find on their quests.
An assortment of cures scattered to all ends of Strolen’s domain!
An item to increase the comfort of the dreaded Cold Camp.
One of the legendary unholy treasures
Spare parts of the Fantasy sort.
"Tired of lugging about heavy quivers full of arrows?"
Some items simply go wrong, that happens from time to time. But some are created by weird minds, even downright deranged ones, minds too sick to be healed. Guess where this one comes from.
Medieval Britons didn't write contracts. Instead, men making agreements would clap their knives onto an altar and recite the agreement three times to seal a deal. Even after the Normans introduced written contracts, British nobles would wrap the parchment around a knife to authenticate it.