It appears to be a very nice holy book of the dominant good faith, the kind that his passed down from generation to generation. The binding is leather and quite plain, but the inside is nicely scribed and occasionally illuminated. A pity that it will lead you down the Path of Darkness the moment you understand its secret.
“It is just a locket for portraits of loved ones. It is quite old, but I will sell it to you for cheap. ”
Will the mask smile for you or frown? Do you know who you are? Do you really?
Being alligned with Evil does tend to make the afterlife a little less appealing. Unless one can somehow claw their way up the heirarchy immediately, one should be looking towards a long, long, long, time of torture and servitude to greater spirits, before any chance of reincarnation will occur. One of the first things Smart Evil Cultists and Priests learn is how to avoid final death.
“Gold. GOLD. GOLD! Beautiful, wonderous, Gold! I am Rich I tell you. I am the luckiest man alive!”
A well crafted but otherwise ordinary steak knife. It makes the cutting of meat sooooooo easy.
“Heel!” “Roll over!” “Sit!” “Sit Up!” “Beg!” “Speak!” Cue Evil Laugh.
“He looks so regal in his riding gear, carrying his riding crop.” “He looks good without it. He always carries his crop too. He just loves riding.”
“This? It is pretty isn’t it? No it is not new. My mother had it.”
Calvinus was one of the finest sculpters known to history. While he performed many an exceptional pieces of historical figures, he is best known for his “inspired” pieces - pieces he created out of his own memory. He said he would go into his studio alone, then just “bang out” a piece without break. This process explains his prodigeous output. There are several dozen exceptionally lifelike women (and a few men). Most are beautiful and scantily clothed, but his “Old Washer Woman” is a master piece. Many countries consider Statues by Calvinus to be national treasures.
Note From MoonHunter: I finally found the one piece we have been missing from the Garage Sale from Hell thread this entire time. A magic item that every covert Evil Cultist and Demon worshiper must have… a lucky piece.
The cutting board is made of wood and there are pictures of apples etched to the corners. This item is somewhat cursed
Nobody calls it a Chamberpot of Holy Blessings. It is just another chamberpot. It is a secret item, nobody actually knows it exists.
It is a nice fluffy pillow, filled with soft down, covered in a soft, nice fabric. It is soooo comfortable. *yawn* You could just nod offffff when layyyying on .......... *snore*
The Gryphon Knights are the commanders of the Sovereign’s Finest, the King’s loyal advisors and bodyguards.
The Sovereign’s Finest is The Crown’s Personal Unit. They are not only elite fighters who have distinguished themselves in service to the Country (Caladania), but they are trained to be envoys of the crown and capable of special duties.
This is a large, heavy mask of Ahursian make, made with tarnished gold and lapiz-lazuli, as well as ivory. It has the appearance of a great crocodile head.
The crucifix (or insert holy pendant of your good mainstream religion of choice) is fairly old, more elaborate than normal, and would usually only be worn by someone of great piety or a female of some piety.
The ring was an item he was always wearing; innocuous enough that no one would question it. It became his perfect tool of power.
A fictional encyclopedia, depicting the bizarre fauna, flora, geography, culture and history of an imaginary world. (Actually a real-world book.)
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.