...for there is a truly deep undercurrent of it flowing through this place.
This scroll was reposted from an forum thread, enjoy it.
Additional Ideas (16)
(The scroll with mighty water locked inside.)
Upon opening and reading the single word inscribed on the scroll ("Water" in arcane tongue), the caster gets a bucket full of it right into the face.
The effect comes directly from the scroll, but always hits the caster, it cannot be evaded. The scroll is always a bit wet, but in good condition otherwise.
This makes for a nice practical joke, but may be useful if you are catching on fire, or need refreshment equivalent to a shampoo/drink/chewing gum from a TV commercial. Handy in the desert, too!
(And if you think now of a scroll named "Fire", that burns your fingers instead of casting the desired spell, that's been done already. :) )
Now, most adventurers are way too smart to put on any jewelry found before having checked out first. The Ring of Tackiness is a very ugly, cheap ring that resembles a Cracker Jack prize. If held in the hand for more than half a minute, the ring puts itself on a finger, and cannot be removed by any means short of a "dispell curse" or something similar, or cutting the finger off. Putting on gloves will not help, as the ring will eat through the cloth. It always remains in sight. It does nothing else but look hideous. The command words "I found the prize!" will make the ring fall off and go inactive until the next poor sod comes along.
When worn, turns the wearer's head around to his back. If taken off and worn again, matches wearer's body to his head; that is, now his whole body is backwards. If they try to walk forwards, it feels like they're walking backwards. The necklace must be taken off and put on again to completly negate effect.
This dark amulet, fashioned in the shape of a demon's face, was forged in the Inferno by Zolgath the Sweaty, Demon of the 8th Pit. When worn, the Black Amulet of the Pit makes the wearer's armpits sweat profusely and stink, ruining any clothing the wearer may have on. It cannot be removed, except by Zolgath himself.
A PC finds a scroll, and as he cannot read, he hands it to another character, without looking at it. The PC has a look, looks surprised, then very glad, and then puts the scroll right into his pack.
"Alright, we can go."
"And what was on it?"
"Err... nothing important. Should we go left or right now? I think we better..."
"WAIT! What was on that scroll?!"
"Oh, it's not interesting. Now, ..."
After some talking the finder was allowed to see the scroll, and decided to keep it. He showed it later to a third character, who claimed for a moment it was misplaced, yet returned it at last.
All happened without any intervention, or intentional manipulation of the GM.
With this I present:
The Cursed Scroll of Phorn
This old-looking piece of parchment depicts several erotic scenes, masterfully painted and in extremely vivid colours. Those looking at it cannot help themselves, but say words like "Ohhh..." or "Hmmmm..." and keep it, not allowing others to look at it or even give to someone else. (Needs an Int. save, or merely the statement of a PC that it will be kept).
If the scroll is actually enchanted, the "pictures" change according to the viewer's personal preferences, otherwise it is for humans' tastes.
The scroll may cause its owner to spend large amounts of time with it alone, and be not willing to share it with anyone. It could break a group if more than one member knows about it, or somehow finds out, as usually more people want it at once. It could also fatally distract a lonely character while guarding his sleepy comrades, or being alone in some dangerous place.
The scroll is NOT magical, enchanted or cursed in any way. :)
Another miscreation from magic users that simply try too hard. Attempting to create another super-weapon, it failed to grow in power in exchange for blood.
The longsword is finely balanced, and has good bonuses both to-hit and to damage caused. If it comes into contact with blood, it soaks it up like a sponge. Unfortunately, it does not grow in power afterwards, it only _grows_. While it does not grow very much, the growth ruins its edge and significantly reduces the damage caused. Barely noticeable at first, the user will soon find that bloody combat transforms it into a nicely shaped steel club. The effect reverts after several days, or after "drying" it close to fire.
(There is probably a limit on the amount of blood it can soak up, though no one has tried yet. But massive quantities will certainly cause it to grow too large, and become too brittle, and breaking it would destroy its magic. A way to distill it might be researched, for purposes like transporting the blood of certain creatures.)
The lighter used to have a very useful function: the first two strokes produce little sparks, but the third lights any item the user concentrates on. And it was useful to its owner and creator, until the old, absent-minded wizard tried to light his pipe, while reading an ancient parchment. Of course, he was just intensely concentrated on the wrong item, and the precious document was set aflame! He cursed the lighter and threw out of his window, and tried to save his other papers. The lighter has had many owners ever since, and most have thrown it away sooner or later.
The power: with the third stroke, the lighter lights randomly either the thing its user concentrates on most, or second such thing. If in doubt, use the last thing in immediate surroundings the person payed attention to. It is not rare for a person the user just talked to start mildly burning (or at least their clothes, rarely the hair or backpack).
*spark* *spark* "... what, nothing?"
"Heheh, doesn't work?"
*sniff* *sniff* "...but something burns... hey, that's YOU!"
"What? Not me... aaaaaAAAHH!" *rolls madly around*
The lighter can light only flammable materials (flammable under normal conditions, of course). The flame starts small, though it can spread like any fire.
The Frog grenade: This package of 1d4 grenades explodes as per a normal grenade. All caught in the blast radius are turned into frogs.
Two Liter Spirit Club: In future set game, a two liter cola bottle filled with holy water. used as a club against spirits.
And, one I'd never heard much more than the name of: The Great Golden Pixie Thwacker. Beyond the power to turn things pink, use your own imagination.
An enchanted, foreign-looking cap of very fine quality, those who look upon it are entraced by its beauty. It is nearly identical to the famous Cap of Confusion, a powerful wizard's garment that allows the wearer to bewilder and frustrate her enemies. The Cap of Confounding, however, does not work in this way.
While wearing the Cap of Confounding, one will feel quite confident in their own abilites; however, most of their abilites are unchanged. There is one notable attribute that is altered: the wearer is rendered incapable of executing mathematics. They are completely unaware of this, of course, but others are bound to notice. The arithmetical trouble affects everything to do with numbers, from simple counting to quadratic equations. The Cap of Confounding and its errors were made famous when King Utar - well known for his fine taste in haberdashery - lead his troops in the Crusade of Thalbus. In giving orders for the artillery to fire, Utar was quoted as saying "Fire at my count! Ready? One, two, five!"
A slightly-archaic helmetwith a visor that fastens securely closed, at first glance, the Helm of Iccan appears to be a useful piece of war gear. This sturdy helm was originally designed to keep prisoners from using their magical abilities, but it was lost for some decades and its true purpose was forgotten.
When the wearer attempts to concentrate on anything, the helm's enchantment causes his nose to itch fiercely. This prevents any sort of successful spellcasting. Worse yet, once placed on the head and secured, the visor's catch cannot be unfastened by the wearer.
This rope is always too short for the task at hand.
The trick is in the uncoiling, but the solution was never made known by its maker Ryanflek. Its of course possible that a master rope maker could, "unravel" the mystery.
There are rough inflexible ropes with hempish hair sticking out at all angles and then there are tightly woven, strong yet flexible, silken cords. Ryanflek was a master rope maker, he was often called upon to make special ropes, ropes of beauty, ropes of incredible strength and ropes of magic. But kings can be tyrants, especially those who have just conquered your lands. Ryanflek found himself called before his new king and ordered to produce the best rope ever made. Aye, ordered, not commissioned as you might expect. The king was arrogant and ruthless paid the master rope maker no monies but always took the latest rope and subjected it to ridiculously high breaking strains, threaded it through the tiniest of eyes and wound it around the diameter of his fingers. Ryanfleck made rope after rope, each one thinner, stronger and more nimble than the next but still the king was never satisfied. Growing tired of Ryanflek's inability to deliver, the king imprisoned the rope makers wife and daughter in the castle tower and ryanfleck himself in the castles dungeons. Ryanflek's heart was in pain, he cried for his family and vowed to make the best rope and trick this oppressor king.
The day arrived, disheveled Ryanfleck kneeled before the king and layed the rope at his feet.It was thinner than ever before, glistened like woven strands of silver unicorn hair. Braided in the most meticulous and alluring manner. Its feel was so soft it almost floated, like one was dragging a hand through lightest white cloud. It was so flexible that it was easily wound around the kings finger. The king tested its strength, first he hung great weights, then harnessed many horses in opposition. Not content he dropped massive boulders onto the rope in an effort to fray and weaken the strands. But the rope held. Content with his knew toy the king released the wife and daughter, Ryanfleck fled with his family but not before he showed the king how to coil the rope.
The king toyfully played with his rope for many days until he realised it was useless. No matter what task he tried to do, every time he uncoiled the rope it was too short. If he wanted to reach down a 50ft pit it was 15ft too short. If he wanted to tie the opening of a sack there was never enough rope left for the knot.
"Its cursed he cried" and had the rope removed from his sight.
Most fighters are unsure what to make of these intricately-decorated, exotic blades. They look much like standard broadswords, but have two smaller, spinning blades attached, resembling pinwheels fastened to either side of the main blade. The spinning blades do make the weapon awkward to wield, spinning and rattling as the weapon is swung. An energetic fighter can get the secondary blades to spin at a rapid pace, at which point they begin making a loud clapping noise that resonates through the blade.
Legend says that swords of this design were once wielded by the Champions of the Bright, a formidable force of warriors. While they carved their way to fame using these noisy weapons, their unique combat style has been lost of the centuries since they flourished. Without the special training techniques of these warriors, their swords are simply heavier, clumsier, noisier swords.
This hasn't stopped various would-be heroes from periodically pulling these awkward swords out, clapping their way into the annals of history.
Unwrap the Chaos
This massive box-like object is wrapped in brown paper, you tear off the brown paper to reveal more wrapping paper... and more wrapping paper, until it is quite obvious that there is no end to the wrapping paper. That's when you finally reach the prize. You tear off a chunk of paper to reveal foam packaging peanuts. An endless supply of foam packaging peanuts. You can dig and dig, the room will never get messy, and you will never get to the bottom. Jump inside and you will discover the Land of Peanuts. It's like heaven, for peanuts, but you won't know that because you will be surrounded by foam packing peanuts. This is where all the foam packing peanuts in our mortal world come from.
Once, long ago, there was a God of Mages known as Tehfayl. He was the God of the young bumbling adepts. He was quite powerful, untill banished from the Godly Realms for causing too much chaos and upsetting the natural balance of things. He was petty and lazy, and liked to use magic for everything.
Once he created this artifact, and possibly The Box That Can Not Be Opened as well, Tehfayl did not mean to create this box. He didn't even create the box itself, it was a gift from one of his worshippers. The worshipper placed the box at his feet. Tehfayl cast a simple Open/Close Object type spell, but... he kinda over did it... The Box sprung open, launching its contents (Rare spell ingredients and such) everywhere!
He was so embarrassed that he blasted the Box from his Godly Realm towards the unsuspecting world below. He has since departed out world, but his magic is still with us. This Box is a cursed artifact. It looks like a normal wooden box, put can not be kept closed, it will spring open at the worst of times. And, even worse, it infects other containers (such as backpacks and potion vials) that it comes close to.
"Damnit, Edgar, you pull out that watch one more time and I'll-"
"You'll what?" *Looks at clock*
Bruno then grabbed the elaborate timepiece. Yanked it, chain and all, from Edgar's pocket. Then proceeded to smash it into total disrepair with his size 14 leather boot.
"Bruno! That was a gift from my FATHER!"
"Well, just because this 'thing' is suppose to show up in- Oh SH*t, what is THAT?!"
The last that was ever seen of Bruno Gheerhardt and Edgar Tick-Tocker was a partially-melted size 14 leather boot with the face of a watch embedded in its heel.
An oddly-painted, unbreakable, ceramic fruit bowl that protects inanimate objects inside it from breaking, decaying, or aging.
Primarily used to store ripe fruit, it can also store other kinds of food.
It is also good for storing chopped off limbs, glass, and wooden figurines!