The mundane-looking "Sanguine Coffee Cup." A ceramic monstrosity that holds something said to be thicker than water.
Time to test yet another one, He thought as he approached the bus. He withdrew the quarters from his pocket, the exact fare. Marvelous!
"You shall find my body beneath the steep cliff, where the larch grove grows. Take my skull, and hang it from the old larch tree. And then you shall make of me an instrument: my skull for the box, the tree for the neck, my tail for the strings and bow. Whenever you play it, I shall be with you, for At-Beyi is inseparable."
- The Legend of At-Beyi
Many magic staffs shoot rays of disintegrating acoustics or summon laser elementals. The Staff of Seryl gets you pregnant.
Unless you are a dude, of course.
One drop for a cluster of flowers, three drops for a tree, no more, no less.
Vampiric panties? What a base a vulgar term, they are discretionary undergarments. Please, they are Braies of the Tides.
"Life, what is it but a dream?" - Lewis Carroll
Some bags have more "extra" than others.
A favored weapon for rogue/thief followers of the Sun God.
A simple metal bucket, capable of holding a bucket of water, or as it happens, a lifetime of effort.
If you need bait in a hurry and the ogres won't get out of the way, you need the Chum Bucket
A candle inside of a skull is a typical creepy feature in cultist's lairs or haunted places, but what if they served a more practical purpose?
It's just a shoddy old hand bag, pay it no mind.
Like the Tiny Hut only better.
"We found 'im alright" mumbled Rizz the bandit, nursing a wound below his right eye. "'e was soaked in blood, 'ead to foot. But no matter 'ow much we tried to 'urt 'im, 'e just laugh'd and kept gett'n up. I don' think 'e'll be leav'n town like ya want'd"
As the sun set, the holy monk of Jove muttered a word and the tip of his staff flared into flame like a torch, without being burned or scorched in any way by it's own holy fire. He carried on his way without fear of being sneaked up on or stepping off the path in the dark.
A key tool of the Necromancers of Light, the Soulbinder eases the difficulty of resurrection.
"See that one, with the burn scars and dark veins? Don't stick too close; he shoots fireblood before engagements. Keeps friends and foes alike at bay, it does."
The old soldier looked up with all three of his eyes. "I lost one of my eyes to a sword point, and they used a little too much Growjuice to heal it. Still, I'd rather have three eyes then only one."
A potion to cheat death... almost.
Mean ingredients bring mean effects...
In the days of old, before the dominance of humanity, the giants were the supreme rulers of the world and their crafts were considered to be the best. These beings venerated the god of the forge above all others and their swords and armors were the best that could be had even in the days of their decline. A hero seeking a masterwork sword might have to voyage long and hard to find a surviving giant smith or cache of rare and valuable giantcraft weapons.