Two religeous sects are approching open war after members of each sect are found brutally beaten to death.

A dwarf's fear of the ocean is not baseless. In the unknowable depths lurks an evil that will punish any dwarf arrogant enough to be on anything less than solid land, and unfortunate enough to die.

Many magical items adventurers seek out help them carry more loot, keep themselves fed and healthy, or just simply hack the bad guys to itty bitty bits. This one lets their loot carry itself.

Chaos and Law have reached a comprmise and stopped thier warring. This truce holds as long as the respecitve priests honors the other's ways for one day of the year. Lawful preists must incite a large decadant celebration or carelessness and the chaotic priests must chaperone the event and keep the party from turning ugly while remaining out of involvement. Thus the warring of the gods has been kept in check for decades and all is well. At least untill the materials for the party come up missing two short weeks before the truce day...

A sword made by ancestors, of ancestors, for desendants. The spirits of the warriors gone before help serve this blade's master in battle.

A staff that was supposed to give control over all the elements was horribly warped by a misspoken incantation.

In case you get a sinking feeling, you can use this.

Axes were made to cut down trees. The Living Trees of Blackwood forest decided the best thing for thier axe to cut down was men.

That's no moon ...

A metal found deep in the bowels of the earth. It stays warm even after years away from the forge.

A cleaver the size of a large shield.

A pike that holds the spirit of a brave slain warrior.

A short metal rod connected to a longer wooden handle by ... nothing. The rod floats in the air close to the handle.

Made by an anarchist trying to seed dissent, the potions actually work better than normal potions of understanding languages ... sort of.

This item is silly.

'Life, what is it but a dream?' - Lewis Carroll

Some bags have more 'extra' than others.

"With the OP(im) implant you can be the master of your own space and time!" - Advertisement

A wrong turn in an other wise well meaning curse leaves the PC's in a tight spot...

Princess Matriax was the daughter of Lord Greybaer, known from the war as "The Butcher of ..." a handful of towns and a couple provinces. If that wasn't enough, the princess had her own guard, troupe of guards, that was hers to see trained and use as she see fit.

She didn't need a defender, not in the sense of some bodyguard. She was quick to take offense, because it amused her to have an excuse to strike people herself, to "quell the insurgents" herself.

She uses her purse to bash people. Her purse is her defender.

A magical plauge is disrupting the city of Blue Marina. Victims are found poisioned and covered in weals and, oddly, pennyless. Can the players solve this crisis before rich and poor are destroyed?

What the F#$%??? - Revolutionary Commander Flint Westbark upon seeing the device for the first time.