Fun with Leeches and Flies!

The common practice of leeching, whereby the spineless water parasites are affixed to those who are unwell with the intent that they should draw forth the bad blood or excessive humors which cause sickness, is in fact only ignorant superstition, and no help at all to those who have fallen ill.

The origin of this error lies in simple, unruned folk attempting to duplicate without sufficient understanding, the performance of Nahwalar’s Marvelous Thaumnivorous Leeches.

That most puissant Viviomancer and life-shaper, by dint of much effort and practice, achieved a spell whereby he might turn the natural actions of the leech to his own advantage and that of the sick he cared for.

This spell, when cast upon a suitable supply or number of ordinary leeches, alters them in such a way that they may be used to ameliorate some unhealthful conditions.
The degree of effect on the patient, and the conditions which may be treated, varies by the number of Thaumnivorous Leeches set to feeding upon him.

A single leech will suffice to draw forth any poison or venom by which the victim’s life is threatened. A victim of poison must receive the attentions of the leech within 4 rounds of the poisoning or envenomation in order to survive. Use of a single leech will cause the loss of one hit point in blood loss as the magically enhanced leeches draw mightily upon the vital fluids of the patient.
A leech which sucks poison will itself die afterwards.

Two leeches are sufficient to cure disease, either natural, or magically inflicted. This includes the infestation by fungal spoors and molds, but not other large parasites such as rot grubs. A pair of thaumnivorous leeches will inflict 4 points of damage upon the patient while removing all trace of disease from the body.

Three leeches must be used to clear the body of the effects of potions, dusts, or other ingested magics. The person so treated will incur 8 points of damage during the procedure.

A set of four leeches will end the effects of any sort of magical Curse, while also causing 16 points of damage to the leeched.

As with normal leeches, thaumnivorous leeches may be removed prior to satiation by the use of salt or fire.

Due to the Laws of Spontaneous Generation, it is wise to destroy by fire any leeches which have become engorged upon magic by their feeding. There is always a possibility that arcane mutation or alteration could bring about changes in a magic-sated thaumnivorous leech which may be infelicitous.

Also, there exists the possibility that a leech, employed upon multiple patients, may in some form transmit magical effects or disease which it had previously drawn from one patient to another.

The spell used to create the Marvelous Thaumnivorous Leeches is quite rare. It has been found to date only in the form of an enscrolled incantation. It prerequires a crystal vessel or decanter of fine workmanship with which to contain the leeches, sufficient solution of aqueous sortilagic fluid to fill the container, and at least four, and no more than eight leeches in good health, as well as a sprinkling of powdered gold and ivory dust.

The spell may of course be copied into a spell book rather than expended directly. All the standard costs and consequences of so doing apply.

Once created, the thaumnivorous leeches will survive within the crystal vessel handily until they are needed.

*Notes of warning, there have been reports that some scrolls containing the engenerative spell have either mistakes or deliberate malignancies written into them. Thaumnivorous Leeches created through the use of such a warped spell result in parasites which directly draw life energy from the patient in a manner similar to some undead. Victims of such leeches will lose one experience level and one hit die per leech attached to them, per round until death.




The Bloodfly Pin.

A large cloak or hat pin of bronze and ruby in the shape of a biting black fly, the Bloodfly Pin isn’t particularly attractive as a piece of jewelry, but it is effective as a magical deterrent.

Once per day, the wearer of the Bloodfly Pin may summon a cloud of vicious biting flies and direct them to swarm a given target. This target may be a single creature, or a designated space, such as a room.

If the target is a creature, the flies will inflict painful, maddening bites causing 1d4-1 pts of damage per round. If the target is a volume of space, then all living things within it will suffer 1 pt of damage per round they remain within it.

The fly swarm will remain for 1D6 rounds before dissipating.

The flies will fly into ears, nostrils and open mouths and make spell casting impossible. Horses and other touchy or high strung animals will bolt and run if attacked by the fly swarm.

The wearer of the pin will draw flies of the normal non biting sort at all times. Usually a half dozen or so will be found buzzing about the general area the pin wearer occupies.

The wearer will also develop a taste for overripe fruit.

If the wearer of the Bloodfly Pin should kill an insect for whatever reason, the next time he attempts to summon the fly swarm, the swarm will target him instead for the full duration of the summoning.

Insects will not attack the wearer of the pin unless attacked first. This includes giant types, but not intelligent insectoids. Intelligent insectoids such as Thri-Kreen, Aspis, etc… will generally feel non-hostile towards the wearer of the pin when first encountered. What happens afterwards is up to the pin bearer.
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It's deer fly season here, hot, humid, still, deer fly season. I hate the blasted things.

Google fetched for me the top pic from some wiki type site.
The second came from the Pictoral Arts blog. It's a sketch for a jewelry maker.

A monster, and a magic item for the Weird West.

Monsters are very rare in the Weird West, it just happens that PCs run into them more often than most folks. People keep to their towns and settlements for the most part; it’s the brave, the desperate, and the touched who dare the open range, the mountains and the deserts by their lonesome.

Likewise, items of a supernatural nature are exceeding rare. Powerful objects of the Art are always singular in nature. Minor arcane items are also very rare, but may possibly be replicated. PCs aren’t likely to be able to do this however.




Gundog, (hell hound of the weird west)

Frequency : Very Rare
No. Appearing : 1 or 1d6
Armor Class : 4
Move : 12”, 120’ per round
Hit Dice : 3-8
% in Lair : 10%
Treasure Type : C
No. of Attacks : 1
Damage/Attack : 1d10, (bite)
Special Attack : muzzle blast, damage as shotgun 1d10, or grape-shot 4d6, depending upon hit dice
Special Defenses : only takes half damage from gunpowder weapons
Magic Resistance : Standard
Intelligence : Low to Average, cunning
Alignment : Enigmatic Evil
Size : M to L
Psionic Ability : Nil

Legends say the Gundog haunts old battlefields or the sites of massacres. A great, black hound with iron teeth and burning ember eyes, the beast is wreathed in acrid gun smoke and leaves behind it paw prints which char the earth.

When the creature appears, its size and power seem to change to match the scale of the carnage which took place at the site. Where only a few were killed, the gundog has appeared but little larger than a wolf. At places where great battles have occurred, and many died by the gun, tales have it the beast grows to nearly the size of a horse.

It is unclear whether the Gundog is a single, immortal monster, or a type of creature of which there may be many. Conflicting tales are told of the Gundog. It is also unknown if it, or they, are supernatural in origin, or some sort of aberration.

Though in all tales the Gundog is a malevolent killer, it seems to choose its adversaries by the strength of the threat they may pose. A Gundog the size of a pony is said to have appeared with a roar like cannon fire the night after the battle of Shealho. It killed most of a cavalry patrol before vanishing, but completely ignored a group of refugees passing by.
The Gundog which appeared on the Dead man’s leg of the Chislem Trail paid no heed to a dozen cow punchers and instead went straight for Lightening Caleb Booker the infamous gunman. Lightening emptied both sixguns into the dog before it reached him and it disappeared in a cloud of brimstone. Or so they say.

In addition to the bite of its terrible jaws, the Gundog may employ its Muzzle Blast up to six times per combat. This is a sudden roaring bark which also discharges red hot shot as though a shotgun had fired from within the dog’s throat. The muzzle blast bark has the same range and effect as an actual shot gun. In larger accounts of the Gundog this weapon is equal in range and effect to grape shot fired from a cannon.



Somewhere, out there, maybe in a ramshackle ghost town or a ruined ranch house, is a battered cartridge box containing the Demon Bone Bullets of Father Callaghan.
The story goes, the Father, an easterner and city-slicker were’t all that strong in the faith himself, till circumstances found him sharing a stage coach with the fearsome Ezra Crumb.
Crumb, called by them who know as, “Ezra the Ghoul Scalper”, regaled the Father with many hair-raising tales of his encounters with the unnatural. Callaghan, more a man of science than a child of God, believed none of it. Though Ezra’s air of firm assurance and vivid powers of description caused him some unease as the night ride went on.

Ezra, as it turns out, were’t just traveling that night. He was a-hunting a diabolic thing called the Buckthorn Fiend. The wind had told Turning Cloud the Shaman that the fiend would come to the coach with the dark of the moon, and Ezra Crumb meant to see it got its trip back to hell.

When, round about midnight, the horses screamed and a yard of spiny black demon arm, plated in armor like a scorpion, came a-groping through the window, Father Callaghan found his faith real quick.

Though the coach was torn to flinders, the horses and both the driver and side man killed horribly, Crumb and Father Callaghan survived that desperate fight beneath the cold prairie stars. The Buckthorn Fiend was banished to the pit, its skull transfixed by the sainted iron of Crumb’s Arkansas toothpick, and from its bones the good Father fashioned 24 bullets of .52 caliber for the Sharps rifle.

Callaghan died in agony some few months later, poisoned by inhaling the demon bone dust kicked up by crafting the cartridges. Ezra Crumb is known to have expended some of the rounds in subsequent adventuring, but how many is unknown.

Each of the Demon Bone Bullets acts as a weapon of slaying. A successful hit with one is always a killshot. In addition, the bullets can hit creatures which otherwise are unharmed by mortal weaponry.
There is a 1 in 20 chance of a misfire each time one of these infernal cartridges is fired. Anyone who may find the old ammo box containing the bullets is advised to employ them with care. It is unlikely the demon bone is any less lethal than it was and a misfire could possibly throw deadly powder into the face of the rifleman.

Only an early model Sharps rifle is able to fire the Demon Bone Bullets.
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I've had very little time or creative mojo lately. There's a lot of stuff competing for my energy this spring. I've got images and feelings roiling around in my mind, game wise, but not enough time to spend on pulling them together. It'll come around eventually.

Here at O.G.G.A., we post no monster before its time.

Also, I think I'm going to get myself one of those reproduction Colt model 1860 army revolvers.

The Swords of the Old Gods.

On a sea washed spit of barren stone, on the bleak northern face of the frost glazed Thillonrian Peninsula, Three gigantic swords, ancient and worn, uprightly pierce the shore rock and stand in silent, unknown vigil beside the grey ocean.

Far larger even than the weapons of the greatest giants, the hoary blades, tarnished and pitted by millennia, are known to few, and are less than dim legend to most. Fractured tales and tattered bits of folklore tell of many stories attached to the mighty war brands.

Ullsepas of Seulm, The tale-gatherer and diviner, may Zagyg forgive his prying, related this to the Lord Grenell, Herzog of the North Province, in a secret missive sent by courier eagle.

“As was claimed by the Kettite before he succumbed to the duress of inquiry, a triad of mighty swords, unoerthly in dimension, does indeed stand beside the bitter sea. Their design encompasses many of the elements of the most ancient sword patterns of the pale Suelish barbarians which infest this cold and dismal place, but no creature which walks this world have I seen which could wield blades such as these.

At my first attempt to divine somewhat of the nature of the swords, I was struck down as though I were but an overreaching novice, though all wise precaution had been taken. The Lore imp I had summoned to aid me was burned to ash instanter. I lay senseless upon the black stone for hours, my mind filled to agony with visions I could neither understand, nor retreat from.

I saw endless boreal wilderness. I saw monsters of legend, vast, iron horned, brazen scaled. I saw men at feast, at love, and at war, but not men as we know, greater, without limit. My senses filled with time and smoke and the calling of crows, and the sting of salt water. But over all boomed and rolled the dark laughter. Wild and unending, deep with mirth and madness, beyond the understanding of mortal men.

When at last the vision waned and I again commanded my own form, I stood and found I was no longer alone on that barren shore. Squatting on his long shanks atop a sea spattered boulder was an old man of appearance most dire and strange. Though the cruel wind froze the spray where it fell upon the rocky shore, he wore no clothing other than a rough kilt of seal leather. His fan-like beard and unkempt mane of hair were snowy white, but they did not hide the sky blue eyes, wicked and distant, he turned upon me.

“Are you of the Cruski?” I asked him.

He gestured towards the standing swords with a rune-scribed arm, if the markings were tattoos or scars I could not tell. He spoke in the common tongue, heavy with the accents of the north.

“You seek to know the swords, many-cloaks? There are tales upon tales that speak of the swords. Some of them are so.”

The nails of his long, knotted fingers were heavy and sharp, like the talons of the golden sea eagle.

“I will tell you one, southern bird.” He slid down from the boulder and stood upright, a full head and a half taller than I.

“You know of Kord, of Lerg, of Beltar, Lendor and Syrul, do you not, wizardling? Gods of the cold people, but not the first.”

He gestured past me, to the swords.

“There were others before them, older”. He pointed to the nearest of the towering blades.

“Greater.”

His fingers twisted, they formed a runic symbol I did not recognize.

“The sword of Thoar.” He said, as an invocation. I observed that the runes wrapped around his arm in a continuous spiral from wrist to shoulder.

He pointed to the second sword. “The sword of Vor.”

He looked at me for a moment as his arm slowly arched to the last of the swords. “The sword of Uld.”

“These are forgotten gods? Gods no longer worshiped?” I asked of him.

“What is worship to the Gods? “ He responded. “Gods have no need of worship. It is for men who crave favor of the Gods, as the lowly wolf rolls on his back and bares his belly to the greater.”

He looked at me for five slow breaths with an expression of deep consideration on his face.

“The Three have been gone from here since long before the restless ones sailed south, to empire and decadence. Some say that they were driven out by their children, the young gods. Some say that they have gone to search between the stars for their stolen wives. Or that they have gone avyking against the gods of other worlds. Some say their swords were driven into the stone to mark their defeat and banishment. Some say they stand in remembrance of a great victory. Some say the Three themselves did thrust the swords into the oerth, to mark the way for their return. So that they would not forget from where they had come, or the wergild that was owed them.”

As he spoke, I watched as the blue of his eyes washed outward over the whites, until, save for the pit black pupils, his eyes were blue entire.

“Some of what is said is so. Some is so, but not so. It has been so long that even the truth has been worn by time.”

I will admit to you, Lord, that I felt fear and trepidation in the presence of the man. He smelt of wild and preternatural magic, and no little of it. If there was not madness in his glacial eyes, there was at least contempt of sanity.

Even as he spoke, I had begun a spell to hold him, so that I might more easily put him to the question and thus gain answers more clear in their meaning. He knew what I meant to do, I think, even before I began the binding. My power and skill in the Art is not small, as you well know, but I think he had but toyed with me from the beginning of our encounter.

He stooped suddenly, and with the nails of his bare hand, he slashed into the very rock beneath our feet, a rune of unknown meaning.

“Story time has ended little bird. Fly away now, before the ice takes your wings!”

In that moment before the completion of my own spell, I was suddenly seized by unseen talons and born up and into the sky. I felt mighty wings sweep the air above me, though I could see nothing of the creature which carried me. I believe that somehow the old man had called one of the tremendous eagles of the etheric plane to do his bidding and remove me from his domain.

The eagle carried me for many leagues before I was able to work my hands free of its grip and dispel the magic which had summoned it to this plane. I faced great difficulty in making my way alone through the hostile wilderness. It was some few weeks before I found a city worthy of representing civilization.

I consider now that our compact is dissolved. I will not again dare that uncaring land or face the inexplicable sorcery of the white-haired man. Not unless sufficient recompense and formidable allies be made available to me. If you would have further attempts made in this regard, send to me the Knight of Tatters and his winsome fey vassal, along with Slyr the Sharper and brother Fastandus and also thrice the coin formerly agreed upon.



Though the true nature and history of the Three Swords is uncertain and left to the Dungeon Master to determine, and to alter to fit his own campaign, some facts can be established.

The Swords create a powerful Magical Alteration Zone extending for approximately one mile in all directions, including to seaward, and also below ground level, and above into the sky.

The effects of the zone change according to the seasons in a steady pattern throughout the year. The Dungeon Master is free to assign alteration effects and months as he sees fit. (See the link in the Old Guard Guide sidebar to find the original post concerning Magical Alteration Zones.)

In addition, Wyrd Greyhawk’s version, The Swords of the Old Gods, presents the possibility that any characters coming within visual range of the ancient blades may chance Atavistic Possession.

The primal, elemental nature of the power of the Swords may magnify the inner nature of the player characters. As a characters choice of Class reflects who they are as a person, the PC’s class characteristics and stereotypical behaviors will become exaggerated and dangerously unbalanced.

When first sighting the Swords of the Old Gods, Player Characters must Save VS Magic, taking into account their individual Magical Attack Adjustment bonuses or penalties derived from their Wisdom Scores. Those who fail to save have fallen beneath the influence of the Swords.

A fighter may become a Shield-Biter. In this case, he always resorts to violence first to solve any problem. He gains +1 to hit and damage. He acts without regard for his own safety or that of his companions. He may continue to fight to -10 hit points. He also has a 15% chance of going battle mad in any combat which lasts more than six rounds. This is analogous to berserker rage and the shield-biter will attack all present until slain or subdued.

A thief may become a Magpie. Such a thief steals compulsively and without digression from friend and foe alike. A magpie becomes obsessed with anything denied him, a treasure item, a bottle of wine, a girl, etc. All thieves’ skills are boosted by 25%. Practicing the art of thievery becomes the be-all of a thief in the throes of atavistic possession.

A cleric may become a Godsman. In every situation requiring even the simplest and most inconsequential decision, the cleric will require time for theological reflection, to ensure that his actions do not conflict with dogma. A godsman casts spells at two levels higher than his actual experience level. He will also attempt to convert others to the worship of his god or gods at every occasion.

A magic-user may become an Eldritch Seer. He then perceives directly the lines and flows of arcane energy about him at all times. This results in a constant Detect Magic ability which never ceases. The magic-user casts spells as though two levels of experience higher than his actual level. He insists on using magic for even the most mundane tasks. He develops a disregard for all things not related directly to magic, and an obsessive need to possess any magical item he encounters. There is a 15% chance that some form of madness, chosen randomly from the Dungeon Master’s Guide, may strike the magic-user for every day that he remains in this state.

Once a character has fallen beneath the influence of the Swords, the Dungeon Master may wish to pass the player a note explaining the behavior changes he must portray. As with cases of PCs controlled by spell or monsters, the other members of the party who remain unaffected will have to figure out what has occurred and how to deal with it on their own.

Once affected by the power of the Swords, characters will remain so until they move outside of the area of effect of the Swords magical alteration zone. At this point they are allowed to attempt to Save VS Magic a second time. If they fail this second attempt, they will remain subject to the Atavistic Possession until such time as a Remove Curse spell may be bestowed upon them.

It should be noted that the atavistic possession bestows a sense of great freedom from social constraints and a feeling of clarity of purpose which is most gratifying. Those characters which are under its effects are unlikely to be co-operative with anyone seeking to return them to normal.

*The pics are of a Norwegian monument commemorating the battle of Hafrsfjord in 872. I bumbled into them whilst tooling about the internet and found them inspiring. Dig it.

The Spontaneous Creation of Magic Items in Play.

I think of my Wyrd Greyhawk as a low magic campaign world, but in fact, it is awash in it. Magic is elemental, a fundamental natural force which permeates and penetrates all space and things in the game world, living and not. Wells and currents of magical energy dot the world, allowing for things and creatures that mundane physics would deny. Raw arcane force has properties and behaviors of it’s own, but these are not completely definable as they vary, shift, and change from time to time and place to place. The only reliable definition of magic is that, it is that which science is not.

The thing that is actually low in Wyrd Greyhawk is the PC’s ability to access and control magic, and employ it to do their bidding. Harnessing magic to create a magic item, or cast a spell is like building a water wheel in order to to use the power of a river to run a mill. Spell work or magic item creation require extensive knowledge, skills, and resources, as well as a proper location and the needed natural energy. Just as a water mill would require knowledge and skill in metallurgy, woodworking, stonemasonry, a basic understanding of physics, the necessary materials, and a strong flowing stream, so too does magic use have a great number of prerequisites.

These things are well beyond the scope of the vast majority of people in Wyrd Greyhawk. Creating a magic item requires knowledge of magic that would be on a level equal with the ability to build a wind turbine to generate electricity, from scratch, without formal schooling. Remember, there are no magic universities or schools in Wyrd Greyhawk, only individual archmages who may choose to take apprentices or not.

This makes the number of magic items and their availability to the PCs in The Game very low and infrequent, which is what the phrase “Low Magic” is commonly seen to mean in gaming terms. This allows me a game world steeped in eldritch glamour without having PC’s suffering Christmas Tree Syndrome and cheapening the weird and unsettling feeling I want magic to have. I actually employ parts of the 2E wild magic system under certain conditions to enhance the atmosphere and ensure that players never take magic for granted. But that’s a post for another day.

This post is about how the natural flow of background magic, combined with circumstance and motivating action on the part of PCs, as well as the good judgment of the DM, occasionally results in the spontaneous creation of magic items.

When a PC shows a particular liking for, and flare in the use of, a particular mundane item, I begin assigning that item Arcane Potential Points, (APPs). Each time that item is employed in a manner which is inventive, showy, changes the course of an encounter or adventure, increases that character’s stature or renown in some way, snatches victory from the jaws of defeat, or is above and beyond the ordinary in some way, I award the item 1 APP. Sometimes 2.

This is a measure of the natural magic of the game world being invested in and/or attracted to the item by the heroic or infamous actions of its wielder. Some events, desperate acts performed under duress or moments of incredible luck, cause ripples and reverberations in the arcane aether, drawing currents of magic towards objects and people. Such actions need not be good in nature, but must be of consequence. I don’t tell players this sort of thing, it’s above their paygrade.

Once an item has accumulated 10 APPs, it has a chance of spontaneously demonstrating magical abilities. This chance is equal to the weilder’s chance of Saving VS Magic. If the item fails the save, it will never become a spontaneous magic channel, end of story. If it succeeds, it has become a magic item.

The DM may proceed in several ways according to the goals of his particular play style from this point.

The magic may be rolled for randomly, using the magic item lists from whatever iteration of The Game you favor and adjusting the result to fit the item. This can be fun, but nonsensical. Which may or may not be a problem for you.

The magic may be dictated by the circumstances of the event which bestowed the final APP. A troll slaying may result in the sword bestowing regenerative abilities on its user. Knocking a thief off a wall with a staff might give the staff the power to cause vertigo or loss of balance on a hit, etc…. I tend to favor this approach myself; I like symmetry and sympathy in magic.

The magic may be related to the characters backstory if you run a story driven campaign. It could be that the character’s actions have activated some destined fate and the spontaneous magic item will in some way make possible a previously unknown or unreachable goal. You could easily retcon any number of plot points into the game in this manner.

The magic may be influenced by powers divine or infernal if such are present in some way at the moment of magical investiture. It may even be possible that the item could become cursed in some way if the final APP derives from an act of evil.

The magic may cause the item to become sentient in addition to whatever magical powers may be gained. In this case, the rules for dealing with intelligent swords come into play, with all that entails regarding power struggles between the PC and the item.

Weapons are the obvious items to become spontaneously magically charged, but any item which a character uses regularly in the requisite manner may possibly become magical. This especially applies to items which are intrinsic to the characters class. Items such as a thief’s favorite crowbar, a friar’s fighting gloves, a paladin’s spurs, or items like a frying pan, a banner, a blanket, etc… May begin to accumulate APPs, if through play they become a regular part of a character’s idiom.

This system allows for magic items to be inserted into a low magic campaign in a way that doesn’t lessen the weirdness of magic, and at a rate that is controllable by the DM. Magic items that come into being this way are very personal to the characters and are treated as having much more value than the generic sword +2 looted from orc hoard #47.

You may or may not wish to inform the players of the new magical power of their item. I find it entertaining to cause unexplained events and drop hints rather than outright announce these things. If the PCs get suspicious and drop some coin on sages and mages, they may find out what has happened, but probably not how, or why. The thing that makes magic, magic is its unpredictability and ultimate uncontrollability. Science is repeatable; magic may or may not be so.

The players don’t get to manipulate this system to create magic items as they wish. As a DM of the Old Guard, I don’t need proof of rules lawyery or bad faith manipulation to get all smitey, only suspicion of same.

The pic is a clip from the center of a Frazetta painting for Karl Edward Wagner's Kane. I dig it. In my fantasy afterlife, Frazetta sits in on Gary's game in the sky and does the character portraits.

What you need is a good night's sleep.

Much concerned with the arcane science of prophetic dream and soporic augury, Somnour the Dossarde had constructed for his own use, this bedstead of the finest craftsmanship and materials. He then laid upon it many subtle charms and magniks whereby he increased both the power of his dream magic, and the clarity of his nocturnal vagaries.

The greater part of Somnour's magic, including his book, the Incunabulum Noctum of dream spells and the Phantastic Bedclothes, as well as the Comforting Blankets, and the Abjurative Sheet, were all lost in the unexplained planar disjunction which rolled across the Bleak March forty years in the past.

Only the Restful Bed is known for certain to have survived that woeful occurrence. It had been disassembled and packed for it's relocation to Somnour's new summer tower, and was three leagues to the south on the Borlem road when the Disjunction transfigured the pine barrens of the Bleak March.

Magic-users and Clerics who cast divinitory magic just before falling asleep in the Restful Bed will have the power and clarity of their magic augmented by the enchantments of the bed.

Spells such as Augury, Divination,and Commune, will act as though cast by a cleric of three levels of experience higher. Locate Object and Find the Path will result in the asked for knowledge coming to the caster in a dream. Range limits are disregarded.

Magic-user spells are similarly enhanced by the magic of the Restful Bed. Comprehend Languages will be made permanent by the bed. Message will send the magic-users thoughts to any other sleeping person. A magic-user who casts Sleep on himself while lying in the Restful Bed will arise after eight hours with no further need of sleep for three days per level. Esp will allow the caster to witness the dreams of others who sleep within one mile of the bed. Clairaudiance and Clairvoyance convey their information in a dream state and without range limits.

The Dungeon Master may rule on in what way similar magics will be affected by the power of the Restful Bed.

Those who have been wounded will heal at thrice the normal rate so long as they sleep in the bed.

Characters of any class who have been confounded by a conundrum of any sort, may "sleep on it", upon the Restful Bed. Those who roll equal to, or below their Wisdom score on a d20, will awake with new insight into the problem. The Dungeon Master is free to offer however much of the solution to the PC's problem that he sees fit.

When the Restful Bed is found, it may have either been reassembled in a new location, or else, it remains disassembled in it's traveling crate. The bed must be complete and correctly assembled to function. It consists of a foot board, head board, side rails, rope netting, mattress, canopy, and shroud. No part of the bed may be missing or damaged for it to work it's dream magic.

The Dretching Bucket, or, Pholtus burn it! What is that stink?!

The Dretching Bucket appears to be a filth-encrusted wooden bucket filled with vile, scummy water. Careful inspection may reveal the sigals and symbols, crafted of strips of human bone, inset within and without the bucket. The layers of grime obscure them from any cursory inspection.

Should the bucket be overturned, and it's contents sloshed out upon the ground, the stinking liquid will form an 8'x8' pool. This puddle is actually a gate to distant infernal regions, and 1d6 Dretch will immediately clamber up and out of the pool and attack any and all persons present. The bucket spiller included.

The wretched little demons will fight with great gusto, only fleeing if two thirds of their numbers have been slain. Any that escape will shadow the party, looking for a chance to murder and devour them when they are at some disadvantage.

The Dretching Bucket was created by the slave-mage Arhmvexoos. Tasked to improve and repair the sewers of the Lesser Capitol of the Ancient Empire, Arhmvexoos caused all of the many miles of cess-tunnels to drain into a planar gate which he created and connected to the Abyss. As he was constrained, and forced to work his magic against his will, the bitter wizard expended no great effort to ensure that the drain-gate functioned in one direction only.

This, of course, resulted in the infamous Night of Ordure and Brimstone, about which it is forbidden to speak. No more here shall be written on that fell and odorous happening.

Soldiery of the Empire, sent to arrest Arhmvexoos at his prison-keep, were the first to encounter the Dretching Bucket as they searched the catacombs beneath the extrospectium. The bucket had been left balanced atop a door left ajar. It would have seemed the sort of joke which some yokel country jester might play, had the spilling of the bucket not resulted in the death of the famous Sword-Leader Yrflrr and a dozen of his Ironcoats. Those who knew the truth behind the mask of stalwart heroism which hid the true character of Yrflrr still found much humor in the last filthy joke of Arhmvexoos.

1d6 Dretch: Move: 9", Armor class: 2, Hit dice: 4, No. of attacks: 3, Damage/attack: 1-4,1-4,2-5, Magic resistance: 30%, Intelligence: low, Size: S,(3' tall) Spell like powers: once per round, Darkness 5' radius, Scare, Stinking cloud, once per day, Telekinese 500 gp weight, Teleport, once per day, and a 5% chance to gate in a type I demon.

So, I just reach in the jar, pull out a tile, and I win a prize? Well, ok.

The Lottery Jug of Zagig!

Also known as Zagig's jar, The Lottery Urn, and "that mad bastard's cookie jar", The Lottery Jug is a simple stoneware jar with a conical lid topped by a ball shaped knob.
The Jug appears to be of about two gallon size, and is glazed in an unremarkable off-white.
Within the Jug are a variable number of lozenge shaped tiles of ivory, ebony, and lapis lazuli. To use the Lottery Urn, it must be shaken, with the lid on, and then, he who wishes to play the lottery, must reach inside and draw forth a tile. In most cases, the fortune inscribed on the tile comes to pass as soon as it is read.
Though it is possible to lift the lid and look within the jug, it is not possible to deliberately choose a tile. As soon as a player's hand enters the jug, darkness will obscure the tiles. If the jug is overturned and the tiles dumped out, they will be blank and non-magical until replaced in the urn.
The fortunes inscribed on the tiles may be benign,(ivory tile), malevolent,(ebony tile), or strange and wondrous,(lapis lazuli tiles).

Each time a tile is drawn, there is a 10% cumulative chance that the Lottery Urn will vanish.

1. All coinage on the tile drawer's person vanishes.

2. All coinage on the tile drawer's person doubles in value.

3. All coinage on the tile drawer's person becomes harmless iridescent beetles which escape their containment and scuttle about randomly. Any that are killed, or escape before ten rounds have passed, do not revert to coins.

4. The lottery player trips and breaks his nose. 2 pts damage.

5. The player gains 1 pt of dexterity.

6. The next attack against the tile drawer will miss, but only because the drawer stumbles and falls in avoiding it. 1d4 points damage upon the occasion.

7. The tile drawer instantly contracts the Mumps.

8. Any physical deficiency the drawer suffers from, near-sightedness, acne, a hump, etc.., is instantly corrected.

9. From this point on, the tile drawers farts smell like wild flowers.

10. One magic item in the drawer's possession becomes cursed. ( The DM should list all the character's magic items and roll to determine which item is now tainted. The DM must then decide in what way the item has been changed.)

11. One magic item in the drawer's possession is enhanced. The DM must treat as in # 10.

12. One item in the drawer's gear which was not previously magical, spontaneously becomes so.
This will be an item which is not normally treated with magic, such as, a flask of oil, a single tent stake, a packet of iron rations. The DM will determine in what way the item has become magical.

13. A leather sack containing 5000 gold pieces falls out of the sky and lands directly on the tile drawer. 3d10 points of damage.

14. A beautiful djinn appears to grant the tile drawer one wish, and a kiss. The kiss is required to receive the wish, also, though attractive, the djinn has horrific garlic breath.

15. The tile drawer's hair permanently becomes fine, pure gold, and continues to grow normally.

16. Instantly struck by lightening! 3d6 damage.

17. One stat raised by 2 points. Player's choice.

18. Character gains 1d20 inches in height.

19. A small, vicious dog appears and bites the tile drawer. 1d4 points of damage.

20. The tile drawer is suddenly capable of playing any musical instrument.

21. Once per turn for the next three days of game time, a small random object will fly out of no where and hit the tile drawer in the head. No damage. roll 1d6 each turn. 1-a stone, 2-a 20 gp gem, 3-a chicken bone, 4-an eyeball, 5-a silver coin, 6-a nut.

22. Tile drawer loses one aspect of his class. A thief loses one thieving skill totally, a fighter loses ability to wield, or proficiency with, a single weapon type. A magic-user looses the ability to ever again cast a random spell. A cleric may never again turn undead of greater than 4 hit dice.

23. Tile drawer gains an aspect of another class. A cleric gains the ability to find/remove traps. A thief may lay on hands as would a paladin. A magic-user to employ a single melee weapon as a fighter of equal level. A fighter gains the ability to Read Magic.

24. For the duration of the drawer's next adventure, the eyes of his patron god will be upon him. The character's actions will bring judgement, for good, or for ill. If the character professes no faith, then a random deity will choose to bring him into the fold. Willing or not.
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The above are examples of lottery fortunes. The DM is free to add to them to whatever extent he wishes. To maintain the balance of whimsy, malignance, and weal, however, you must always add to the fortunes in groups of three tiles. One for a fortune largely good, one largely evil, and one strange and wondrous.
In order to fully feel the sense of excitement of playing the lottery, it is best to have the players draw numbered chits from a jar, or a hat, rather than roll dice to determine the outcome.

The Lottery Jug of Zagig is meant to bring that feeling of tempting fate to the game, without the potentially campaign ending results of the infamous Deck of Many Things. You can make it as deadly, or goofy as you like. In any event, Zagig will be pleased.

Minor, but entertaining, cursed items.

I like small curses that add flavor to character interactions without loading the game with extra mechanics. This is a list of a few minor cursed items that make fine back-ridding monkeys for overly confident characters, but don’t clog up the flow of the game. All still require a Remove Curse spell to be gotten rid of though, so they aren’t things that can be shrugged off by characters.

Insulting Gloves: A pair of fine, soft leather gloves. There is a 10% chance that during any interaction with a social superior of the wearer, the gloves will cause him to suddenly, and without provocation, slap said superior roughly across the face. This chance is not cumulative.

The Cruel Chapeau : A fashionable appearing hat. The Cruel Chapeau may be removed easily, but once worn, the wearer suffers severe, permanent hat-hair. This lowers charisma by 2 points.

The Cowardly Scabbard : An empty scabbard of fine quality, it will adjust itself to perfectly fit any sword inserted into it. Any time that the bearer finds himself in a dangerous situation, however, the scabbard will refuse to release the weapon it holds until all danger is past.

The Quiver of Sargent Fumbles : The first time the owner attempts to draw an arrow from the quiver in a combat situation, the quiver will suddenly dump all arrows within it in a heap about the owners feet. This will cost the quiver bearer all actions for that round.

The Scroll of Iniquitous Injunction : A type of cursed scroll. Who so ever reads the scroll will be forbidden or denied one specific thing of the DM’s choice. For example, the reader may not speak to an elf, the reader may not ride a horse, the reader may not eat pie. The Iniquitous Injunction can only prevent the reader from taking a given action, it can never force a reader to take or preform any action.

The Dragon Tankard.

I got this mug at a Renaissance fair when I was fifteen. It will hold an entire bottle of mead, and it has done so many times. I'm a bit surprised that it has survived undamaged for so long as it has seen much hard use over the years, and little careful handling. Especially at nearly two pints per fill up.
Looking at it on the shelf yesterday, I decided to immortalize it as a unique magic item for a future campaign. I thought it fitting to make it something that would cause trouble and launch adventures, since, it's surely done that in the past.

The Dragon Tankard.

A singular magical item, the Dragon Tankard is a large, heavy, clay mug with a sculpture of a rampant dragon wrapped around it's face. Drinking from the tankard will confer upon the imbiber the dragon speech for a limited time. This will give the ability to mesmerize listeners and plant Suggestions as per the spell.
The entire contents of the mug must be drunk, and the mug must be full for the magic to take effect.
The power and duration of the magic depends upon the strenght of the beverage used.
It must be alcoholic, at least beer, with wine causing more powerful effects, brandy or liqueurs still stronger, and uesgah or aqua vitae having the greatest possible effect.

Drinking a full tankard of beer will give the drinker the power to command the total attention of all persons within ten feet for three rounds and the ability to make a single suggestion to one person.

Drinking a full tankard of wine will give the drinker the power to command the total attention of all persons within thirty feet for five rounds and the ability to make suggestions to two people.

Drinking a full tankard of brandy will give the drinker the power to command the total attention of all persons withing fifty feet for ten rounds and the ability to make suggestions to five persons.

Drinking a full tankard of uesgah with give the drinker the power to command the total attention of all persons within one hundred feet for five turns and the ability to make a mass suggestion as per the spell.

The catch....

The Dragon Tankard in no way protects the drinker from the deleterious effects of alcohol.
Drinking a tankard of beer will cause no ill effects, and a tankard of wine, only a light sense of satisfied confidence.
A tankard of brandy or uesgah however, will require the drinker to save vs poison or be inebriated. Failure to save requires Dungeon Master consultation of the intoxication table, page eighty-two of the Dungeon Masters Guide. Brandy will result in Moderate intoxication and uesgah will result in Great intoxication.

Moderate intoxication
Bravery +2
Morale +10%
Intelligence -3
Wisdom -4
Dexterity -2
Charisma* +5
Attack dice -1
Hit points +1

Great intoxication
Bravery +4
Morale +15%
Intelligence -6
Wisdom -7
Dexterity -5
Charisma* +8
Attack dice -3
Hit points +3


*normally charisma would suffer with drunkenness, however, the magic of the tankard will cause onlookers to perceive even incoherent babbling as though it were the wisdom of the ancients.

Moderate intoxication will require 2-4 hours to wear off, Great intoxication 4-6 hours.

Dwarves receive a +2 alcohol resistance bonus to their save vs poison.
Constitution bonuses may also be applied toward the save vs poison.

Dungeon Master adjudicating of drunken behavior must be carefully considered. At the state of Great intoxication, the Dungeon Master has partial control of the player character, acting as the Id. All sorts of deep desires and hidden motivations will surface under the influence of sufficient uesgah.

" And so, good people of Pluffmun, I say to you , the insolence of the Blor of Nudge must no longer be tolerated! No more sneering down his Long, warty nose, no more flouncing about and leering at our partridges! I say we go now and stuff his well with goat droppings!"

" Yess! Yess! Let us bespackle his stonework with offal!"

" What happened to, "put your heavy purses in this sack so that I may carry them for you?"

"Mauger that! I am inspired! Justice must be done!"