This tome looks like a haphazard collection of random notes on different types of paper stitched together and bound within a wooden cover. The pages describe all of the 300,000 gods of the world, each in the language of the people who worship them. The book is stored high in the mountains, kept safe by an order of monks. Reading the entire book confers a deep understanding on the nature of the cosmos and access to incredible power. This only works, however, if it is read without translation, meaning that the reader must master each language contained within. The various monks know these languages but there is typically only one alive at a time who knows them all. This monk would be an excellent source of information and/or magic. IF the PCs learn about it; IF they can find the monastery; IF they can convince the monks to help them; AND if they can understand the convoluted riddle given as an answer.
A small, enchanted chest, 2 feet on a side. It is of some dark wood with fantastical images graved upon it. Worn leather straps act as hinges and a simple toggle keeps it closed. Anything placed within it, with the lid closed, becomes accessible to anyone with one of the other 5 identical chests. Once it is taken out of any one of the 6, the chest is empty again. Perfect for passing messages or small items between widespread groups, such as ships at sea and their ports of call or generals on the field of battle.
Idea from the Aeneid. Could make an intriguing encounter when searching for firewood..."Quite near there happened to be a mound of earth, at the highest part of which were growing thickets of cornel and a dense cluster of spiky myrtle-stems. I went up there and tried to wrench the green growth from the ground to provide a leafy covering for our altar. There I was confronted by a horrible and astounding miracle. For from the first bush which I tried to break off...blood oozed in dark drops, fouling the earth with its spots...A piteous moan came from the base of the mound and I heard a human voice answering me: 'Why, Aeneas, must you rend a poor sufferer? I am buried here...for I am Polydorus. Here death overpowered me in a crop of piercing iron-pointed spears. And so a crop resembling javelins has grown over me...'"