It is an long simple key, with a crystal in the turning loop. It seems insignificant, but it is a thing of legend. Every thief in the four realms has heard of it. Scholars and madmen, and those opposing the madmen all quest for it. It is a simple key to lock or unlock anything.
Another scary child’s toy…
A fluffy, pink stuffed bear which always seems to end up in unlikely places, and which people tend to get quite attatched to…
Small bits of precious metal, and flawless jewels woven into the mane of a noble steed
Small wooden discs about 2 1/4 inches in diameter and between 5 and 10mm thick (see below). They are rumoured to be made from the roots of the great tree Unity that supports the centre of the world.
Firey food for your favorite feathered friend.
A prison ... a sanctuary ... a gateway ... a murderous tool. Grasp the power of a circle of midnight.
Feu’mer the inspector was quite adept at his work of solving and preventing crimes. He was known for a very sharp eye - and not the one remaining eye that was in his head.
Made of dark steel by those of an age gone by, this is the last of the giant war golems. Taller than elder dragon is long, this clanking behemoth plods across the land, obliveous to all works of men, elves, or dwarves.
It sees you, can you see it? Even when the room is lit?
Funny how those shadows twist, as though the room were filled with mist.
But theres no mist, the room is clear! About now, you should start to fear.
clear your mind, take a last breath. For in a second, you’ll meet with death.
Pembridge Maccadia, the Mindless Ruler, the Crafter of Graf Malin, sacrificed his very life to destroy a nation. A breathing, living machine with the heart of blades, a testament to his loathing of Man. His hatred for his own people…
A legendary relic, suited to base a campaign around, with the power of Creation crystallized in a single milky seed…
The blackboard of the middle ages
A natural stone with a hole in the center and gift from the earth to the lucky finder.
A stone construct that is ideal as a magical guardian, either of property or of information
In the darkness in the south transept of the Cathedral of Isielles stands the resplendent Clock of Shadows. It tells more than just the time of day…
It looks like an ordinary parchment map, until it speaks to you. It says, “I know where you need to go to find what you are looking for.” From there, the adventure begins.
A brightly colored ink that hardens the skin.
The shattered remnants of a divine weapon, a certain amount of power remains in these bits of celestial metal.
Many years ago, a trader from far away died while in The City. One of the entries of his possessions was a "bag of 220 beautiful coyns". These coins were sold to a crafter who sold some of them and made others into hat band decorations, jewelry, bag clips, and so on. It was years later that someone discovered their true worth and their power. They make things move.
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.