Manufacted during the heyday of the Old World, these rods contain the elemental power of flame.
An emerald, the size of three fists, and burning with an inner light. A most worthy prize for any adventuring party.
He's a non-descript man, with his pushcart. On it he sells nothing more exotic than jars of sun-dried tomatoes in oil and pickled vegetables. But he's always out there, in the courtyard of the great Guild of Wizards, in most weathers, and he'll have a kind word for you, and a jar.