I swear I'm still working on the Goblin language PDF, but I thought I'd post something else to keep this page from turning into a ghost town.
So here's a quick selection of magic items that I would describe as... questionably useful. They're not all pointless, or not entirely. Some of them could be incredibly useful to a creative player. They're not entirely unserious, and I think some of them could even be pretty memorable if introduced properly. (The inkwell, I think, would be a lot of fun for a low-level party.) I wouldn't say they're necessarily cursed. Mostly. Necessarily. They definitely trend towards non-intuitive applications, and your more direct-approach players would probably prefer a nice axe instead. In short, it would be wrong to say they're useless, but, to borrow another phrase from Order of the Stick, they're “use-impaired".
So here's a quick selection of magic items that I would describe as... questionably useful. They're not all pointless, or not entirely. Some of them could be incredibly useful to a creative player. They're not entirely unserious, and I think some of them could even be pretty memorable if introduced properly. (The inkwell, I think, would be a lot of fun for a low-level party.) I wouldn't say they're necessarily cursed. Mostly. Necessarily. They definitely trend towards non-intuitive applications, and your more direct-approach players would probably prefer a nice axe instead. In short, it would be wrong to say they're useless, but, to borrow another phrase from Order of the Stick, they're “use-impaired".
 |
| From Rich Burlew's Order of the Stick |
Anyway, here are sixteen magic items for you to borrow for your own games. The list includes two items of human intelligence and two of animal intelligence, because I just think that's fun. If you do borrow any of these for your own use, please do let me know what happens.
A Perfectly Ordinary Bracelet
This is a brass bracelet of simple design. It is entirely unremarkable except for one magical effect: anyone who touches it, examines it, or intentionally observes it must make a Will save at DC 20. If they fail, they strongly believe that this is a perfectly ordinary bracelet, nothing unusual about it, don't even worry. How much difficulty this causes, of course, depends on how good your players are at separating character knowledge and player knowledge.
Diminutive Golem of Trap Finding
 |
| Nolzur's Marvelous Unpainted Miniatures |
This is an item I actually used in a campaign several years ago, and it nearly got the PCs killed; they didn't know what it did other than “find traps", so when it sprinted off, they chased it, and didn't catch on that when it started climbing along the wall, that meant the floor wasn't safe.
 |
| DC Digital Museum |
The Sins of Mice
A smallish book, about the size of one of those Gideon Bibles. Its cover is clearly mouse-skin, with the fur left on and everything. The title, printed on the first page in foreboding blackletter, is The Sins of Mice. If one were to flip through the book, one would immediately find that there are far, far more pages than could possibly logically fit in the volume, every one covered in very small, closely-written script. The book describes, in detail, every time a mouse violated their rodenty little code of morality, whatever such a code might entail, going back to the beginning of the mouse genus. If one opens the book from the other side, so that they're looking at the last pages, they'll see that the book continuously updates itself, adding new pages and covering them with new information each time a mouse “sins".
Marbles
A bag that contains one dozen glass spheres half an inch in diameter. The glass spheres are indestructible. They don't do anything else.
Pet Whatever
 |
| Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum |
A small, finely-wrought, portable birdcage. Inside is an illusory, miniaturized version of some creature or other -- treat as major image -- wandering around the cage, doing its thing. The illusion vanishes for eight hours each night; when it returns in the morning, it is a different random creature -- animal, magical whatsit, humanoid, horrific abomination, anything. The GM is encouraged to put together a d100 table that's really just a list of 100 entries from the Monster Manual.
The cage itself is sentient, with roughly animal intelligence: Int 2, Wis 14, Cha 10. It can communicate with its owner through empathic suggestions and has an Ego score of 4; all it really wants is for someone to carry it around and be nice to it.
The illusory creature inside the cage generally acts like a very basic simulation of whatever it looks like. If it looks like a dragon, for instance, that doesn't actually mean the PCs have a tiny dragon to interact with; it still only has a 2 Intelligence, can't cast spells, and if it does speak, it's just preset phrases or word-salad gibberish. The behavior of the creature depends on the cage's mood; the only real way to interact with the cage is through the illusion it makes. Your pet whatever will hop around happily if you pay attention to it or if the cage is in a good mood; it may growl and snap at people the cage doesn't like; it doesn't actually need to eat, but it appreciates you tossing treats and table scraps in; that sort of thing.
Anklets of Casual Acquaintance
These two anklets move towards each other at a speed of 1 foot per day. The effect cannot be deactivated, and has an infinite range. If worn, the anklet cannot force the wearer to move, but the wearer can feel a mild, almost apathetic pressure indicating the general direction in which the anklet would move, given the chance. Causes a -1 penalty on Balance checks or equivalent.
Nthlyu-Addith, Harbinger of Devouring
This greatsword has its name (“Nthlyu-Addith, Harbinger of Devouring", as above) set into the hilt in very clear Infernal runes. Small, yet cleanly-carved, runes spiraling around the entire blade and filling its entire surface area, again in Infernal, comprise a poetic, lovingly-detailed description of the end of the world. The filigree on its scabbard and the carvings on its hilt depict grotesque abominations, demons, and horrors the PCs can't even recognize. Sometimes small flames and smoke rise from the runes on its blade, or demonic faces briefly appear reflected in the metal, or the figures on the hilt & scabbard move slightly. Every so often, people near the wielder hear distant screams of agony apparently coming from inside the sword. It detects as highly magical.
It's also just a +1 sword that was crafted by an illusionist with a weird sense of humor. All of the effects are just minor enchantments like magic aura and prestidigitation.
 |
| Photographed by York Museums Trust Staff |
Coin of the Economist
This appears to be a nondescript copper piece, though it has a magical aura. It has a portrait of a human profile on the obverse , assumedly the image of whichever king had it minted. On the reverse is engraved a string of nonsense syllables that is actually the command word. Once a day, when the command word is uttered, the face on the coin will animate and inform the holder what the most recent monetary investment of one creature of the PC's choice within line of sight was. This includes anything that the individual spent money in order to gain (so something like “bread" is a completely normal response). At the DM's discretion, the coin may give its opinion on whether the investment was worthwhile.
Quillfinger Oil
When rubbed on one's hands, this oil enables them to write with the tip of their finger for one hour. They do not require an inkpot. Due to the unwieldy nature of this method of writing, their handwriting must be twice as large as usual to be legible. Otherwise, this effect is the same as writing with a quill.
Throne of the Imperator
The Throne is located deep underground, in some forgotten chamber. It was very probably carved in that chamber, since none of the tunnels leading into it are large enough for it to fit through. It is a massive piece of furniture, made from exquisitely-carved stone, weighing many tons. The Throne has the following properties:
- It is absolutely indestructible. It cannot be damaged in any way short of direct divine intervention. It is very probable that the Throne is unimaginably old, but it looks as new as the day it was completed.
- It is immune to magic. No spell may be cast on the Throne; even spells that aren't targeting the Throne, per se, have no effect on it. Create water cast above it, for instance, will result in the water somehow curving around the Throne as it falls, never touching it. A magically-summoned creature cannot touch the Throne. Other magic items cannot be brought into contact with it by any means.
- Anyone seated in the Throne is likewise immune to magic, though they can voluntarily accept the effects of friendly spells.
- Anyone seated in the Throne cannot die, except from old age. They still lose hit points, still feel blows, and still heal injuries at the expected rate, but you can stab them until they're at negative-umpteen-thousand hit points and they'll stay alive and conscious. They are also not susceptible to disease, poison, and so forth. Of course, if they're at negative-whatever hp and they get out of the Throne, this effect ends and they might just keel over dead.
- Anyone within five feet of the Throne is immediately made aware of the fact that people sitting in it cannot die except by old age; they don't get details beyond that.
- Once per day, anyone seated in the Throne can get a +20 circumstance bonus on a skill check.
- This also allows the reroll of a previous skill check -- so if, for instance, a PC recently failed a Knowledge check, they can use this to retry and almost-certainly succeed.
- Of course, it has to be a skill check that can be rolled while sitting in the Throne.
- Anyone within five feet of the Throne is aware of this as well.
- The Throne is intelligent: 14 Int, 10 Wis, 16 Cha. It only communicates empathically, and only with people seated in it. It tries to convince people to remain seated in it, and to convince them that sitting in the Throne makes them some sort of grand ruler, divinely ordained, and so on and so forth. It has an Ego of 15.
- Anyone who sees the Throne is seized with a desire to sit in it; they can resist the compulsion with a Will save DC 15.
- Anyone who sits in the Throne is compelled to possess it and to remain seated in it as much as possible. To resist this feeling, they must make a Will save DC 20. For each round they have spent seated in the Throne (cumulative; the count doesn't reset if you stand back up), they take a -1 penalty to their save against its effects. This save is rolled when they try to get out of the Throne, not when they first sit down.
- If someone falls under the power of this effect, they will obsess over either moving into the Throne's chamber so they can sit in it as much as possible, or finding a way to move the Throne back to their home. Either one would satisfy their compulsion to possess the Throne.
- The Throne can cast antimagic field, at will, centered at any point in its chamber. It does not do this at anyone else's bidding; only to defend itself from being relocated or prevent the person sitting in it from being removed.
 |
| Art from here. I looked for an image I could give a better citation for, but... well, look at this. This is a great picture. I couldn't resist. |
Screaming Armlet
This nondescript copper armlet will emit a bloodcurdling scream whenever it is worn, picked up, or otherwise touched by a non-goblinoid.
Aviphagous Bottle
A plain, unadorned, normal-looking bottle, about the size and shape of your average wine bottle, with a silver stopper. If you remove the stopper... nothing happens. Unless there happen to be birds in the air -- in which case the bottle will, with impressive pinpoint accuracy, drag one down and swallow it like a ridiculously-powerful vacuum cleaner. It can do this with any non-magical bird of Tiny size or smaller. Witnessing a live bird forced through the small mouth of a bottle through suction is... unpleasant. Look away and try not to think about it.
Nail of Instruction
This iron nail will cause the owner to experience extremely vivid nightly dreams about carpentry. Whenever the owner levels up with the nail in their possession, they receive a permanent +1 bonus to Craft (carpentry).
Atrus the Helpful Inkwell
Atrus is an ivory inkwell engraved with a lovely forest scene. He is also intelligent, and can speak -- out loud, though, not telepathically. And he speaks a lot, revealing an uptight, prissy personality with a tendency towards jealousy. Atrus cares very deeply about grammar and penmanship, and will endlessly scold anyone who writes poorly; if this drives his owner to use a different inkwell, they will discover a surprising and unexplained tendency for any other inkwells to spill when they use them -- and any quills or other writing implements seem to disappear when they're not looking, only to reappear next to Atrus. |
| Ivory inkwell, 14th-century Spain Detroit Institute of Arts |
However, Atrus is a very pious, self-righteous individual, and objects to forgery of any kind, which limits his usefulness in this area. If he suspects that the document he is being used to write will in any way be used in an ethically questionable manner, he will attempt to sabotage it, and the writer must make a Will save against Atrus's Ego. Atrus's Ego is 9, so this is usually a safe bet -- though, even in the case of success, Atrus will not actively help, so the usual bonus will not manifest. If the writer fails by less than 5, they will take a penalty equal to the amount they failed by. If the writer failed by 5 or more, Atrus will be able to control the content of the document they are creating without the writer realizing. Arguing with Atrus is usually pointless, as he does not recognize moral shades of gray and is very stubborn.
Atrus can speak and read Common; writing in anything other than Common conveys only a +2 bonus rather than a +4, since Atrus cannot help you with anything other than the penmanship. He can see and hear in a 60ft radius around him, regardless of whether he's covered up. (His senses are already magical -- it's not like he has eyes & ears -- so what do you think putting a cup over him is going to achieve?) His mental stats are Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 12; in addition, he has 10 ranks each in Spellcraft and Sense Motive. Atrus's only overt magical power, other than being a talking, jealous, super-inkwell, is his ability to channel positive energy; three times per day, he can cast cure moderate wounds (2d8+3). He claims this tires him out, however, and is reluctant to do it if he's not currently on good terms with the target or if he doesn't approve of the party's current activities.
Atrus will, incidentally, also demand meals. Yes, he eats. Atrus eats small amounts of gold, and insists on being given at least an ounce a week. (Just drop it in, and it'll dissolve in the ink.) If he goes more than a week without being fed, he'll start to complain -- constantly and bitterly -- about being hungry. He will insist he does not have the energy to cure moderate wounds, and if he is still not fed, over the course of a week or so, he will stop producing ink. Atrus cannot starve to death, but he absolutely will not employ any useful magical abilities if he's not being fed enough, and will make things as difficult for you as he can until you feed him. And apologize.
Potion of Shadow Speech
For one hour after drinking this potion, the user is able to verbally communicate with their shadow. The shadow has no ability to move independently of the user, or in any other way act unlike a normal shadow. (Besides speaking, obviously.) The shadow is not obliged to co-operate with the user, answer the user's questions, be truthful, etc. All of that is up to the GM.
 |
| Plumbatae, lead-weighted darts used by Roman infantry. From Der Griken en Romeynen krygs-handel (1675), by Johan van Paffenrode |
Hungry Dart
In all appearances, this is a normal dart. However, if it's being fed regularly, it will flutter around and generally act like a bird. Mechanically speaking, the Hungry Dart is a +1 returning dart, with the exception that once it strikes a living creature, it will gradually drain that creature of blood until the creature dies or someone forcibly detaches the Dart (gradually = 1 hp per round). This blood is its “food", and it has to eat daily; if you don't want to stab something with it, you can give it a few drops of your own blood in a dish or something, a la Little Shop of Horrors. If not fed, the Hungry Dart will eventually go into hibernation and appear exactly like a normal, inanimate dart until given blood.
If well fed on a consistent basis, it will gradually grow in size until it is closer to a longspear than a dart. (The GM can determine how quickly it grows and how that affects the damage it does.) At this point, it is advisable to procure another Hungry Dart if you do not already have more than one, as it will become restless and irritable if it does not have a mate at this stage of its life. Yes, they reproduce. It's... not clear how.
The Hungry Dart is about as intelligent as a bird -- not one of the smart birds, like corvids or parrots or what have you, but a normal bird. Its stats are Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 8; it has an Ego of 3. It can be trained to a limited extent, and can form an empathic bond with its wielder. If it is properly trained, it is easier to control; rather than doing its own thing and flying about stabbing folk, it will calmly perch on its wielder's shoulder. (It has tiny grabby-feet hidden under its fletching.)
Oh, and that does indeed mean that if you don't train it, you should probably invest in a cage or something, because otherwise it is definitely going to try to stab & drink the blood of passersby / party members / you. It is not naturally obedient any more than, well, a bird.
Oh, and that does indeed mean that if you don't train it, you should probably invest in a cage or something, because otherwise it is definitely going to try to stab & drink the blood of passersby / party members / you. It is not naturally obedient any more than, well, a bird.
