“ In one region of a forest, all of the trees are identical, down to the leaves and the twigs. If the PCs carve something into one of the trees, it could mystically propigate until it covered all of the trees, or could vanish since it was not carved into the one true tree.”
“ This is an idea for a basic weapon which I have adapted partially into a fighter subclass. Let me know what you think, because if it's any good, I may post the subclass.
Double Bulwark Shield
Melee weapon (martial, shield)
Category: Items
Damage: 1d6 per hand, 1d4 together
Damage Type: Bludgeoning
Item Rarity: Standard
Weight: 6
When wielding the Double Bulwark Shield in two separate parts, you gain +2 to your AC, +1 per hand.
When wielding two separate parts of the Double Bulwark Shield, you can take an action to bring the two halves of your shield together. Your movement is halved as long as the shield is brought together. If you move or attack after bringing your shield together this turn, you receive a +3 bonus to your AC. If you don’t move or attack after switching this turn, you and an ally directly behind you receive a +5 bonus to your AC. This action is known as Steadfast.
Once the shield is brought together, you may take a bonus action to become Steadfast even if you attack this turn. However, you may not move or attack after becoming Steadfast.
Taking apart your shield is considered a free action.”
“ Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.”