Houndbane Light Crossbow

Aura Moderate Transmutation CL 8th
Slot —; Price 18,335 gp; Weight 4 lb.

DESCRIPTION

The Houndbane Light Crossbow is a finely balanced +1 light crossbow whose dark walnut stock is carved with images of fleeing wolves beneath a waning moon. Its steel limbs are etched with tiny runes that seem almost to shimmer when aimed at creatures of the canine line. Though outwardly unremarkable, hunters of dangerous beasts quickly learn that the weapon carries an enchantment born of generations spent battling ravenous packs, infernal hounds and cursed shapeshifters.

Whenever a bolt fired from a Houndbane Light Crossbow successfully strikes a creature of canine nature, it deals an additional 2d6 points of damage. This extra damage is not multiplied on a successful critical hit.

For the purposes of this enchantment, canine creatures include, but are not limited to, dogs, riding dogs, wolves, dire wolves, worgs, blink dogs, winter wolves, hell hounds, yeth hounds, barghests in either form and lycanthropes whose animal form is canine (such as werewolves, werejackals and weredogs) while in animal or hybrid form. The Dungeon Master is the final authority on whether a creature qualifies as canine for this effect.

The additional damage stacks normally with the benefits of special ammunition, such as silver or cold iron bolts, whenever those materials would also affect the target.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, bane;
Cost 9,167 gp, 5 sp + 733 XP.

LORE

The first Houndbane Light Crossbows were crafted by isolated villages whose borders lay against deep forests where wolves were only the least of their worries. As generations passed, those forests became home to worg tribes, infernal hunting packs and cursed men who surrendered themselves to the moon. Rather than enchant a weapon to destroy all monsters equally, the village artificers concentrated their efforts upon the predators that stalked their homes year after year.

Many professional monster hunters consider the weapon a mark of grim experience. Unlike grand enchanted swords carried by celebrated heroes, the Houndbane Light Crossbow is often found in the hands of scouts, trappers, bounty hunters and caravan guards who understand that survival depends upon striking first. Veterans frequently carry silver bolts alongside ordinary ammunition, allowing the crossbow to remain effective against both natural beasts and supernatural foes.

Legends persist of a forgotten order known as the Brotherhood of the Broken Fang, whose members swore never to hunt ordinary wolves, reserving their weapons only for creatures twisted by evil, infernal influence or unnatural curses. According to the oldest surviving journals, every Houndbane Light Crossbow they forged bore the name of a village destroyed before its creation, ensuring that each weapon served as both a tool of vengeance and a memorial to those who had fallen.

KELWYN'S NOTES

Hatred is an unreliable craftsman. Those who forge a weapon solely to indulge vengeance eventually discover that their anger dulls long before the steel does. Yet purpose is another matter entirely. A weapon built to defend the innocent carries a different sort of weight, even when its purpose is terribly specific.

The Houndbane Light Crossbow was never intended for common hunting. Its earliest makers sought only to protect isolated villages from werewolves, worgs, hell hounds and the many other canine horrors that prey upon civilized folk. Against such monsters, the weapon has more than earned its reputation.

As with any finely crafted instrument, however, its purpose has not always remained in honorable hands. I have encountered more than one evil ranger who delighted in slaughtering ordinary dogs for sport or malice, carrying one of these crossbows as though it were a badge of accomplishment rather than shame. Such people mistake cruelty for strength, never realizing that a loyal hound possesses more honor than they shall ever know.

Blink dogs deserve separate mention. They are neither wicked nor deserving of persecution. Their inclusion within the enchantment stems from their unmistakably canine nature, not from any moral failing. I would strongly caution any owner of this crossbow against treating every eligible target as an enemy. Wisdom should always guide the hand that holds enchanted steel.

The greatest strength of the Houndbane Light Crossbow is not the additional harm it inflicts. Rather, it lies in the confidence it grants a frightened traveler who hears howling beyond the firelight. Sometimes courage comes not from believing oneself invincible, but from knowing that one prepared carefully for the danger most likely to arrive.

Mist of Rapture

Aura Moderate Enchantment; CL 9th
Slot —; Price 9,000 gp; Weight 1 lb.

DESCRIPTION

Mist of Rapture is most commonly found sealed within a fragile glass globe or a small metal vial. When the container is opened or broken, the rose-colored vapor escapes, expanding into a spherical cloud with a radius of up to 30 feet, depending upon the amount released. The damp, heavy vapors cling to clothing, skin, and other surfaces, remaining in place for 1d4 days in still air. Strong winds disperse the mist normally, while even the gentlest air currents cause the cloud to drift slowly.

Any humanoid that breathes the mist must succeed on a DC 17 Will save or become overwhelmed by indescribable ecstasy for 1d6 rounds. A creature that succeeds on its saving throw is affected for only 1d3 rounds. While under the effects of the mist, an affected creature drops anything it is holding, falls prone if able, and becomes helpless, blissfully oblivious to its surroundings. Physical attacks, loud noises, or other external stimuli do not interrupt the effect.

The mist completely occupies the victim's thoughts, rendering it temporarily immune to all charm and compulsion effects while affected. Creatures maintaining telepathic contact with an affected target immediately become subject to the Mist of Rapture themselves, suffering the same duration and receiving their own saving throw. Creatures immune to mind-affecting effects are unaffected by the mist.

During the round immediately following the end of the effect, an affected creature is disoriented. It moves at half speed, loses any Dexterity bonus to Armor Class, cannot make attacks of opportunity, automatically loses initiative ties, and takes a –4 penalty on Spot and Listen checks until the end of its next turn.

LORE

The art of creating the Mist of Rapture has been lost in antiquity. No surviving spellbook, alchemical treatise, or artificer's journal records its true formula, and countless attempts to reproduce the rose-colored vapor have ended in failure. The few known examples are almost always discovered sealed within delicate glass globes or finely crafted metal vials of unknown manufacture, often recovered from ancient tombs, forgotten vaults, or long-buried ruins. Each newly discovered vessel is regarded as an irreplaceable relic, for once its contents are released, they are gone forever.

Unlike ordinary gases, the Mist of Rapture possesses strange physical properties that continue to puzzle both alchemists and wizards. The vapor is unnaturally heavy and damp, clinging to skin, clothing, and every surface it touches while lingering for days in perfectly still air. Even the gentlest breeze carries it only reluctantly. Most remarkable of all is its contradictory nature. Though it utterly overwhelms the senses with indescribable ecstasy, it simultaneously closes the victim's mind to outside influence, rendering enchantments that manipulate thought or will temporarily powerless. Many scholars have called this one of the great paradoxes of enchantment magic.

The greatest mystery, however, lies not in the mist itself, but in the consciousness it touches. Those linked by telepathy to an affected creature experience the same overwhelming rapture without ever drawing a breath of the rose-colored vapor. This phenomenon has led some psionic researchers to theorize that inhalation merely establishes an initial connection, after which the enchantment spreads directly through thought itself. Whether this represents an unknown branch of enchantment, a forgotten psionic discipline, or the lingering remnant of a magical tradition now lost to history remains one of the enduring unanswered questions of the arcane arts.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, calm emotions, hideous laughter, mind fog; Cost 4,500 gp + 360 XP

Materials a flawless crystal globe or alchemically treated bronze vial, powdered rose quartz, distilled lotus nectar, dew gathered from moon-blooming roses, and incense burned from dreamwood harvested beneath a full moon.

KELWYN'S NOTES

One of the greatest follies of young wizards is believing every dangerous magic must also be violent. The Mist of Rapture is a perfect contradiction. It sheds no blood, scorches no flesh, and leaves no visible wound, yet a single vial can render an entire company utterly incapable of defending itself. The battlefield has seen many horrors. Few are so serene.

I find the loss of its formula almost comforting. Modern artificers possess an unfortunate habit of reproducing every ancient marvel they uncover, usually with greater efficiency and less restraint. Some secrets deserve to remain secrets. A substance capable of reducing rational minds to helpless bliss would be a dreadful commodity were it to become commonplace in civilized lands.

Its peculiar interaction with enchantment has fascinated scholars for centuries. Most compulsions succeed by inserting foreign thoughts into the mind. The Mist allows no room for such intrusions. Every corner of consciousness is consumed by overwhelming sensation, leaving no avenue through which another will may enter. I suspect this is less a defensive property than a fortunate consequence of the enchantment's true purpose.

The telepathic transmission remains the greatest puzzle. One cannot help but wonder whether the vapor itself is merely the visible expression of a far deeper magical phenomenon. If thought alone can carry the enchantment, perhaps the rose-colored cloud serves only as the key that unlocks a door within the mind. The implications are both extraordinary and deeply unsettling.

Should you ever discover an intact vial, resist every temptation to satisfy your curiosity. The world contains countless magical experiences worth pursuing, but there is something profoundly dangerous about perfection. Those who survive the Mist of Rapture rarely describe what they witnessed in any meaningful detail. They merely smile... and speak of spending the rest of their lives wishing to feel that way again.

Originally created by Ed Greenwood and modified for D&D 3.5 Edition.

Boots of Aggressive Skipping

Aura moderate transmutation; CL 9th
Slot feet; Price 28,000 gp; Weight 1 lb.

DESCRIPTION

Fashioned from supple leather in vibrant colors, these boots are perpetually polished and somehow always appear brand new. The instant their wearer attempts to move, the boots compel an energetic skipping gait. Walking is impossible. Running simply becomes faster skipping. Even a cautious 5-foot step is performed with an enthusiastic hop.

While worn, the boots grant a +20-foot enhancement bonus to all movement speeds. The wearer is continuously affected as though under the effects of freedom of movement and ignores all nonmagical difficult terrain.

The utter absurdity of someone aggressively skipping into mortal combat causes many opponents to underestimate the threat before them. During the first round of combat, any enemy with an Intelligence score of 3 or higher that has line of sight to the wearer must succeed on a DC 17 Will save or suffer a –2 morale penalty on attack rolls, weapon damage rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks until the beginning of that creature's next turn. This is a mind-affecting fear effect.

A creature immediately becomes immune to this effect for 24 hours after witnessing the wearer successfully strike an opponent, cast a harmful spell, or otherwise demonstrate genuine combat ability.

The wearer cannot voluntarily suppress the boots' enchantment. Any movement made while wearing them is accomplished by skipping.

LORE

No one agrees who first crafted the Boots of Aggressive Skipping. Some insist they were commissioned as an elaborate practical joke intended to humiliate an arrogant duelist. Others believe they were the life's work of an eccentric enchanter determined to prove that confidence could be every bit as frightening as menace. Whatever their true origin, every verified owner eventually abandoned attempts to resist the enchantment and instead learned to embrace it.

Accounts of the boots have appeared throughout history in places separated by centuries and kingdoms. Veterans tell of a champion who skipped laughing through volleys of arrows before routing an entire mercenary company. Highwaymen whisper of a brightly skipping traveler who crossed marshes, rubble, and tangled forests without ever breaking stride, leaving bewildered pursuers hopelessly behind. Those who survive such encounters seldom remember the battle itself as clearly as they remember the impossible sight of someone joyfully skipping toward certain danger without the slightest hesitation.

Collectors of magical curiosities often dismiss the boots as a novelty after witnessing their peculiar gait. Experienced adventurers know better. The laughter always comes first. The realization that the skipping fool is also the deadliest person on the battlefield almost always comes too late.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, freedom of movement, longstrider; Cost 14,000 gp + 1,120 XP.

KELWYN'S NOTES

There exists among civilized folk an almost sacred reverence for appearances. We adorn authority in solemn robes, clothe courage in polished steel, and drape wisdom beneath expressions of studied gravity. We have persuaded ourselves that danger, if it possesses even the smallest measure of courtesy, shall surely announce its arrival with sufficient dignity to satisfy our expectations. It is a charming belief, though history has displayed remarkably little interest in preserving those who cling to it.

The enchantment woven into these boots performs no deception in the traditional sense. It conceals neither form nor intention. The wearer advances in plain sight, making no effort to disguise either presence or purpose. The illusion is instead completed within the mind of every observer, each willingly surrendering reason in exchange for ridicule. Few enchantments accomplish so much while altering so very little.

It has long fascinated me that laughter and fear occupy neighboring chambers within the mortal heart. The passage between them is astonishingly brief. One moment a company finds amusement in the spectacle before them. The next, they discover that the object of their contempt has crossed the battlefield with impossible swiftness, untouched by snare or obstacle, while their own certainty lies broken upon the ground beside them. By then, amusement has become a memory of questionable value.

One may search every grimoire ever penned and find countless spells devoted to obscuring the truth. Far fewer concern themselves with allowing the truth to remain plainly visible while persuading witnesses to dismiss it. I have often suspected that the latter requires the greater understanding of both magic and human nature, for there are few forces in this world more dependable than a mind determined to believe exactly what it wishes to see.

Should these curious boots possess any lasting lesson, it is not that absurdity can become dangerous. That much has always been self-evident to any careful student of the arcane. Rather, it is that contempt has forever been among the most accomplished accomplices of death, requiring neither spell nor blade to prepare the way for both.

Bucket Helm of Heroism

Aura Moderate divination and transmutation; CL 10th
Slot Head; Price 24,000 gp; Weight 3 lb.

DESCRIPTION

At first glance, the Bucket Helm of Heroism appears to be nothing more than an ordinary wooden bucket turned upside down. It bears no decoration, maker's mark or outward indication of enchantment. Despite its humble appearance, the bucket fits comfortably upon the head of any Medium humanoid, completely obscuring the wearer's face while allowing normal breathing and speech. To all appearances, the wearer has chosen farm equipment over proper armor.

The Bucket Helm of Heroism is a continuous, use-activated wondrous item. While worn, the wearer gains blindsight 30 feet, allowing them to perceive creatures, objects and terrain within that range without relying upon normal vision. Because the wearer does not use conventional sight, they are immune to all gaze attacks, including petrification, death gazes and similar visual effects. In addition, the wearer automatically succeeds on attempts to disbelieve any figment or glamer illusion that relies solely upon visual deception.

The bucket completely blocks the wearer's normal vision. Creatures, objects and locations beyond the range of the granted blindsight are treated as though they have total concealment. The wearer cannot read, observe distant objects, target creatures beyond 30 feet with effects requiring line of sight or perform any task requiring normal vision while wearing the bucket. Furthermore, the wearer gains a +4 morale bonus on saving throws against fear effects, their willingness to endure ridicule hardening their resolve against intimidation.

Once per day, the wearer may invoke the helm's signature ability, Headfirst Into Glory, as part of a charge attack. Activating this ability requires no action beyond declaring the charge. During the charge, the wearer instinctively senses the safest and most direct path to the target, ignoring terrain penalties that would reduce the wearer's movement during the charge, provided a legal charge path still exists. The attack gains a +5 insight bonus on the attack roll, as though affected by true strike. If the attack hits, it deals an additional 2d6 points of force damage as the bucket releases a thunderous, supernatural THUNK audible for hundreds of feet. This additional force damage is not multiplied on a critical hit.

LORE

The first Bucket Helm of Heroism is said to have belonged to Sir Brannic of the Bent Lance, whose finely crafted helmet was crushed beneath the foot of a hill giant moments before a decisive battle. Refusing to abandon his companions or retreat in disgrace, Brannic seized a sturdy stable bucket, inverted it upon his head and rode into the fray. His improbable victory inspired a wandering archmage to preserve that extraordinary act of courage within an enchantment that could be bestowed upon future generations.

Over the centuries, additional helms have appeared throughout the realms, each indistinguishable from an ordinary wooden bucket. Their reputation has spread through soldiers' camps and adventurers' guilds alike. Inexperienced warriors laugh openly when they first see one. Veterans do not. Too many dragons have fallen, too many medusas have been slain and too many beholders have perished after underestimating the fool wearing the bucket.

A persistent legend claims the enchantment does not respond to every wearer. According to old tales, the bucket grants its greatest power only to those willing to surrender their pride for the sake of others. Those who wear it merely for amusement or vanity supposedly discover nothing more than an uncomfortable wooden bucket upon their heads. Whether this is a genuine property of the magic or simply romantic folklore remains fiercely debated among sages.

Some collectors quietly repeat an old proverb whenever tales of the helm arise: Never laugh at the bucket. Someone stronger than you already did.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, blindsight, find the path, heroism, true strike; Cost 21,000 gp + 1,680 XP, a sturdy oak bucket that has survived a victorious battle while worn as a helm and a masterwork steel helmet willingly sacrificed to protect another.

KELWYN'S NOTES

There are moments in a wizard's life that demand genuine humility. Mine arrived on a dreary autumn afternoon when I watched a knight calmly place an ordinary wooden bucket upon his head before issuing a challenge to a beholder. I had already begun composing the poor fool's eulogy in my mind.

The beholder appeared just as bewildered as I was. It unleashed eye ray after eye ray with supreme confidence, each one failing to accomplish anything of consequence. The knight continued advancing with the deliberate pace of a man who had accepted that dignity was a luxury best enjoyed after surviving the battle.

When the distance between them had finally closed, the knight lowered his head and charged. The impact produced a single, impossibly loud THUNK that echoed throughout the valley. Dust drifted from nearby cliffs. Birds abandoned their nests. The beholder's reign of terror ended rather abruptly.

Naturally, I sought permission to examine the bucket afterward. The knight politely declined, explaining that removing it before sunset would be "bad luck." Whether this was an obscure magical property or merely a convenient excuse to keep curious wizards at arm's length, I cannot honestly say.

Many magical artifacts dazzle with precious metals, glittering gemstones or impossible craftsmanship. This one disguises extraordinary power beneath rough timber and iron bands. It reminds us that appearances are often the least reliable measure of greatness.

Should you ever witness an armored warrior quietly placing a wooden bucket upon their head before battle, I strongly recommend withholding your laughter. Better still, stand behind them if they are your ally. Should they be your enemy... I suggest making peace with whatever gods are willing to listen.

Hobbyhorse of the Merry Cavalier

Aura faint transmutation; CL 5th
Slot —; Price 16,000 gp; Weight 3 lb.

DESCRIPTION

At first glance, this item appears to be nothing more than a finely crafted wooden hobbyhorse mounted upon a polished ash pole. Speaking the command word while straddling the hobbyhorse causes both it and its rider to rise smoothly into the air until the rider sits at approximately the same height they would atop a Medium riding horse. Although no physical horse exists beneath the rider, an invisible magical force supports both rider and mount.

Once activated, the Hobbyhorse of the Merry Cavalier functions as a perfectly trained light horse. It responds instantly to the rider's spoken commands and body movements, allowing it to walk, trot, canter, gallop, stop, back, turn, leap, and maneuver with all the grace and responsiveness of a living mount. The hobbyhorse has a land speed of 60 feet and may run at ×4 speed.

The hobbyhorse occupies the same space as a Medium mount and grants its rider all the normal benefits and penalties of mounted combat, except where those benefits require the mount itself to make attacks. The hobbyhorse cannot make hoof attacks, trample, overrun, or otherwise attack creatures. It is never considered combat-trained.

The hobbyhorse remains no more than 5 feet above the nearest solid surface beneath it. It traverses hills, stairs, ramps, bridges, shallow water, uneven ground, and similar terrain exactly as though invisible legs carried it. It cannot climb vertical surfaces, leap farther than a normal horse, or move into an area where no supporting surface exists within 5 feet below. It is not capable of true flight.

The hobbyhorse can carry up to 300 pounds, including the rider and all equipment. It never tires and requires no food, water, sleep, or rest. Because it is not a living creature, it is immune to fear, poison, disease, mind-affecting effects, ability damage, ability drain, death effects, and any effect requiring a Fortitude save unless that effect also affects objects.

The hobbyhorse is a magical object with hardness 5 and 10 hit points. It may be attacked normally while active or inactive. If reduced to 0 hit points while activated, its enchantment immediately fails. If it is within 20 feet of a solid surface, it gently lowers its rider to the ground before collapsing into a broken, nonmagical wooden toy. If no suitable surface exists within 20 feet, or if circumstances prevent a safe descent, the rider falls normally from their current height. Once destroyed, the Hobbyhorse of the Merry Cavalier permanently loses its magical properties and cannot be repaired by mundane or magical means; a new item must be crafted.

Speaking the command word a second time dismisses the enchantment. The hobbyhorse gently lowers its rider to the ground before returning to its ordinary, toy-like appearance. Activating or dismissing the hobbyhorse is a standard action.

LORE

Legends disagree on who first conceived the impossible notion of riding a child's toy into earnest adventure. Some claim it was the work of a court jester determined to humble a vain king who judged worth solely by appearances. Others insist the enchantment originated with a practical wizard who sought a mount requiring neither stable nor fodder. Gnomish storytellers, however, simply grin and suggest that perhaps both tales are true.

Though its appearance invites laughter, seasoned travelers have long recognized the item's remarkable practicality. The hobbyhorse never throws a shoe, never bolts in fear, never requires grooming, and never complains after days of continuous travel. Couriers, wandering performers, hedge wizards, and adventurous children grown into adventurous adults have all found reasons to treasure the humble wooden steed.

Many owners report an unexpected consequence of carrying the hobbyhorse. Villagers who might otherwise greet a heavily armed traveler with suspicion often find themselves smiling instead. Even the sternest gate guards have been known to suppress a laugh as a fully armored knight trots confidently toward them atop what appears to be nothing more than a carved stick. In dangerous times, a moment of shared laughter can prove as valuable as enchanted steel.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, phantom steed; Cost 8,000 gp + 640 XP

KELWYN'S NOTES

I have encountered dragons with impeccable manners, demons capable of polite conversation, and kings possessing all the wisdom of spoiled geese. Experience has therefore taught me never to judge a thing by how ridiculous it first appears. The Hobbyhorse of the Merry Cavalier is a splendid example of this principle.

Many apprentices believe powerful magic must always cloak itself in grandeur. They carve dragons into their staffs, adorn their robes with stars, and insist every incantation be delivered as though addressing the heavens. Then along comes some cheerful enchanter who places years of arcane study into a child's toy and quietly rides past them while they are still saddling their horses.

I confess there is a certain elegance in removing every unnecessary complication from the notion of a mount. No feeding. No grooming. No mucking stalls. No frightened animal shying from fireballs or roaring monsters. The enchantment preserves every useful quality of horseback travel while dispensing with those inconveniences that stablemasters have accepted for centuries.

I have also observed that the rider's dignity survives only if the rider chooses to let it. Those who blush, apologize, or attempt to explain themselves become the subject of every jest. Those who sit proudly, offer a courteous nod, and continue on their journey soon discover that confidence has a curious way of silencing mockery. People are remarkably reluctant to laugh at someone who is plainly enjoying the joke more than they are.

So should fate ever place one of these delightful contrivances into your hands, mount it with a smile. Ride boldly through the marketplace. Tip your hat to the onlookers. There is profound magic in refusing to let embarrassment govern your actions. A brave soul upon a hobbyhorse will travel much farther than a fearful soul upon the finest stallion ever bred.

Fork of Profuse Puncturing

Aura Moderate Transmutation; CL 10th
Slot —; Price 18,302 gp; Weight 1 lb.

DESCRIPTION

At first glance, this appears to be nothing more than a perfectly ordinary steel dinner fork. It bears no gemstones, no gilding, no elaborate engravings, and no indication whatsoever that it is magical. It is balanced surprisingly well, however, and somehow feels entirely natural in the hand despite being unmistakably a piece of tableware.

The Fork of Profuse Puncturing functions as a +1 keen wounding fork. Treat it as a dagger in all respects, except that it deals 1d4 points of piercing damage and resembles an utterly mundane eating utensil. It threatens a critical hit on a 17-20 and deals double damage on a successful critical hit. Every successful hit also bestows 1 point of Constitution bleed damage, as described by the wounding special ability. The fork can be thrown with a range increment of 10 feet and may be used in melee or as a thrown weapon exactly as a dagger.

Despite its absurd appearance, the fork is fully capable of bypassing damage reduction and interacting with feats, class abilities, and magical effects exactly as though it were a dagger.

LORE

Legends claim the first of these bizarre weapons was created after two rival archmages spent an entire royal banquet arguing whether enchantment cared about dignity. One insisted that legendary power belonged only in legendary weapons. The other quietly enchanted the nearest dinner fork.

When a challenger mocked the ridiculous utensil and accepted a duel, witnesses expected a brief comedy. Instead, the enchanted fork carved through armor with uncanny precision, leaving wounds that refused to close. The duel ended quickly, and the laughter stopped even more quickly.

Today, surviving Forks of Profuse Puncturing are treasured by pranksters, assassins, eccentric nobles, and adventurers with an irrepressible sense of humor. Veterans know better than to laugh when someone confidently points a fork at them.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, keen edge, rage, creator must be at least 10th level; Cost 9,302 gp + 720 XP

Kelwyn's Notes

I have spent centuries cataloging artifacts capable of leveling castles, slaying dragons, or reshaping kingdoms. It is therefore deeply irritating that one of the more memorable magical weapons in my collection is, beyond all argument, a dining utensil.

Many apprentices laugh upon seeing it. They invariably ask whether it is meant as a joke. I encourage them to hold that opinion until after the first sparring match. Education often arrives with several inconvenient puncture wounds.

There exists a dangerous misconception that appearances determine capability. The universe has never shared that opinion. A fork may become a weapon, a shepherd may become a king, and a peasant's walking stick may someday carry enough enchantment to humble a tyrant. Reality possesses a delightfully wicked sense of irony.

I confess I have carried this fork to diplomatic dinners on several occasions. No threats were made, yet negotiations tended to proceed with remarkable civility once everyone realized I had absentmindedly set my enchanted utensil beside my plate. It is astonishing how polite people become when cutlery is demonstrably lethal.

Should you ever discover one of these curiosities, resist the temptation to ask why anyone would create such a thing. The better question is why anyone believed they could not. Magic has never been constrained by common sense, and I have long since stopped expecting it to begin.

Giant's Cudgel

Aura strong transmutation; CL 12th
Slot none; Price 32,000 gp; Weight 3 lb.

DESCRIPTION

Fashioned from a single length of seasoned hardwood, a Giant's Cudgel is almost aggressively unremarkable. It bears no precious metals, no polished gemstones, and no elaborate carvings beyond the occasional maker's mark burned into the butt of the grip. Many are mistaken for simple walking sticks or common militia clubs until their enchantment is revealed.

Rather than altering the wielder's strength or increasing the club's physical size, the enchantment manipulates momentum itself. For the briefest instant before impact, the weapon carries the crushing force of a hill giant's mighty swing while remaining no heavier than an ordinary club. The effect is invisible save for a faint shudder in the air and the unmistakable sound of timber striking with impossible force.

A Giant's Cudgel functions as a +2 club.

Whenever a Medium or smaller wielder successfully strikes a target with the weapon, the club deals 2d8 points of bludgeoning damage, as though it were a Huge club wielded without penalty. This replaces the club's normal damage dice and is not increased or decreased by the wielder's size. Apply the wielder's Strength modifier, enhancement bonus, feats, and all other applicable modifiers normally.

If wielded by a Large or larger creature, the Giant's Cudgel instead functions as a normal +2 club of the appropriate size for that creature.

The weapon is treated as magic for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, bull's strength, righteous might, telekinesis; Cost 16,000 gp and 1,280 XP

LORE

Hill giant folklore tells of a contest between the giant champion Hrokk One-Tree and an elderly human hedge wizard who claimed that wisdom could overcome brute strength. Hrokk uprooted a young oak with a single hand and challenged the old man to match the feat. The wizard merely picked up a fallen branch and, with one effortless swing, split the giant's tree cleanly in half. Rather than taking offense, Hrokk burst into laughter and declared that any human capable of such trickery deserved to share a giant's strength.

Whether the tale is fact or embellishment, the earliest known Giant's Cudgels appeared soon afterward in the hands of caravan guards, foresters, and wandering pilgrims. Their humble appearance made them ideal traveling companions, for few thieves coveted a weathered club leaning against a wagon wheel. Those same thieves often learned their mistake in painful fashion.

Modern arcanists remain divided over the weapon's true function. Some insist the cudgel briefly channels giantish might directly into the blow. Others maintain that the enchantment bends the laws governing inertia for only a heartbeat, allowing an object of modest mass to strike as though it weighed hundreds of pounds. The distinction has fueled centuries of debate in magical academies, though those who have stood on the receiving end generally agree that the finer points of theory become remarkably unimportant.

KELWYN'S NOTES

One eventually discovers that appearances possess extraordinary influence over intelligent creatures. Present a jeweled hammer glowing with runes and your opponent immediately begins calculating how to survive it. Present an ordinary walking stick and they begin calculating whether they can take it from you. The latter assumption is often the more dangerous.

I have watched seasoned veterans ignore a Giant's Cudgel entirely while meticulously cataloging every enchanted blade displayed upon a merchant's rack. They searched for brilliance and overlooked simplicity. Magic has always delighted in rewarding precisely that sort of arrogance.

The enchantment itself demonstrates admirable restraint. It does not seek spectacle. It does not transform the bearer into a giant, nor burden them with impossible weight. Instead, it accomplishes one task with exceptional precision: ensuring that when wood finally meets flesh, stone, or steel, the universe behaves as though something vastly larger had delivered the blow.

There is a lesson there that extends well beyond the study of transmutation. Great accomplishments seldom require becoming something else entirely. More often they require learning how to apply one's existing strengths without waste or hesitation. Efficiency, not excess, has always been the quieter sibling of mastery.

Should fate ever place a Giant's Cudgel into your hands, cherish its anonymity. Resist every temptation to gild it, engrave it, or decorate it until it resembles the trophy of a vain nobleman. Let others dismiss it as an ordinary stick. Surprise, after all, is among the most reliable allies any adventurer is ever likely to possess.

Canine Barding

Scout's Harness (Canine Barding)

Cost: 40 gp
Armor Bonus: +2
Max Dex Bonus: +6
Armor Check Penalty: 0
Arcane Spell Failure: 10%
Speed: Unchanged
Weight: 12 lb.

Fashioned from thick boiled leather stained dark brown or russet, the Scout's Harness protects a dog's chest, shoulders and neck while leaving its legs and joints completely free. Soft suede lining prevents chafing during long marches, while sturdy brass buckles allow the harness to be fitted or removed quickly. Reinforced rings along the back provide attachment points for a lead, saddlebags or other equipment.

Designed for hunting hounds, messengers and scouts, the harness emphasizes mobility over maximum protection. Its high-cut shoulder openings permit a full running stride, allowing the animal to sprint, leap and climb with little restriction.

The Scout's Harness is considered light armor.

Ranger's Barding (Canine Barding)

Cost: 300 gp
Armor Bonus: +4
Max Dex Bonus: +5
Armor Check Penalty: -1
Arcane Spell Failure: 20%
Speed: Unchanged
Weight: 24 lb.

The Ranger's Barding combines thick boiled leather with riveted chainmail to provide exceptional protection while preserving a war dog's agility. A reinforced leather breastplate shields the chest and shoulders, while curtains of finely linked mail protect the throat, flanks and lower ribs. A broad leather spine guard distributes weight evenly across the animal's back without restricting movement.

Every surface likely to rub against the dog is padded with soft leather, and carefully placed articulation points allow the armor to flex naturally with every stride. Numerous attachment rings permit the mounting of packs, bedrolls or other field equipment.

Favored by military scouts, wardens and adventurers who rely upon trained companions, the Ranger's Barding offers an excellent balance between protection and mobility.

The Ranger's Barding is considered light armor.

Heavy War Barding (Canine Barding)

Cost: 800 gp
Armor Bonus: +5
Max Dex Bonus: +3
Armor Check Penalty: -3
Arcane Spell Failure: 30%
Speed: Reduced by 10 ft.
Weight: 36 lb.

At first glance, Heavy War Barding appears to be an exceptionally well-crafted leather harness. Hidden beneath its thick outer shell, however, are dozens of overlapping steel plates riveted between layers of hardened leather in the manner of a brigandine. This construction provides far greater protection than leather alone while remaining considerably more flexible than solid plate armor.

The armor covers the chest, shoulders, ribs and spine, with an articulated mail curtain protecting the throat and an optional mail apron safeguarding the abdomen. Broad padded straps distribute the weight comfortably across the animal's frame, while heavy forged buckles ensure the barding remains secure even during violent combat.

Heavy War Barding is intended for mastiffs, war hounds and similar animals expected to fight on the front lines alongside their handlers.

The Heavy War Barding is considered medium armor.

Collar of the Wolf

Aura Moderate transmutation; CL 9th
Slot Neck (animal only); Price See Table; Weight 1 lb.

DESCRIPTION

The Collar of the Wolf is a series of enchanted leather collars designed to enhance the natural bite of canines and other creatures that rely upon their jaws in battle. Each collar is fashioned from thick, supple leather fitted with a polished silver clasp depicting the head of a snarling wolf. Delicate runes are etched into the clasp and continue around the collar's inner band. More powerful collars bear increasingly intricate engravings, though all share the unmistakable craftsmanship of the same ancient tradition.

When worn by a creature possessing a natural bite attack, the collar causes that attack to be treated as a magic weapon for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction. In addition, the bite attack's damage increases by the number of steps indicated on the table below, following the standard D&D 3.5 weapon damage progression used for increasing weapon size. Only the creature's natural bite attack is affected; the collar grants no benefit to claws, gore attacks, slams, manufactured weapons, or any other form of attack.

Only one Collar of the Wolf functions on a creature at any given time. Wearing multiple collars provides no additional benefit.

Collar	Damage Increase	Typical 1d4 Bite	Market Price
Collar of the Wolf	+1 step	1d6	2,000 gp
Collar of the Dire Wolf	+2 steps	1d8	8,000 gp
Collar of the Winter Wolf	+3 steps	1d10	18,000 gp
Collar of the Worg	+4 steps	2d6	32,000 gp
Collar of the First Wolf	+5 steps	2d8	50,000 gp

A creature whose bite attack normally deals damage other than 1d4 increases its damage by the same number of steps using the standard weapon damage progression.

LORE

Although many assume these collars were created by druids, the oldest surviving examples display enchanting techniques more commonly associated with master artificers than guardians of the wild. Their makers evidently believed that a faithful animal companion deserved enchantments every bit as potent as those bestowed upon a knight's sword or a wizard's staff. Rather than altering the nature of the beast, the collars simply awaken the full potential already present within tooth, muscle, and instinct.

The collars are traditionally named after increasingly formidable canines known throughout legend and folklore. Beginning with the common wolf, each successive enchantment honors a creature of greater strength and renown until the series culminates in the Collar of the First Wolf. Whether this mysterious progenitor truly existed or merely symbolizes the untamed spirit from which all wolves descend remains a matter of spirited debate among sages, druids, and storytellers alike.

These collars have found homes around the necks of humble sheepdogs, disciplined war hounds, steadfast animal companions, and even the occasional wolf willing to trust a mortal. Veterans often remark that the collars possess a curious quality beyond their enchantment. Animals wearing them seem no more aggressive than before, yet they display an unmistakable confidence in battle, as though the magic reassures them that their courage will never be wasted when defending those they have chosen to protect.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, greater magic fang; Cost See Table

Collar	Cost to Create
Collar of the Wolf	1,000 gp + 80 XP
Collar of the Dire Wolf	4,000 gp + 320 XP
Collar of the Winter Wolf	9,000 gp + 720 XP
Collar of the Worg	16,000 gp + 1,280 XP
Collar of the First Wolf	25,000 gp + 2,000 XP

KELWYN'S NOTES

One of the more curious habits of adventurers is their willingness to invest princely sums enchanting the weapons they carry while expecting the faithful creatures that accompany them to rely upon little more than breeding and bravery. It is a peculiar inconsistency. A seasoned hound may guard a sleeping camp for years without complaint, follow a trail invisible to every member of the party, and interpose itself between its master and mortal danger without hesitation. Yet when the time comes to divide the treasure, the poor beast is often rewarded with a strip of dried meat while everyone else debates the relative merits of enchanted steel.

The Collar of the Wolf has always struck me as an enchantment born not of vanity, but of gratitude. Its magic does not compel greater ferocity, nor does it awaken bloodlust within a gentle companion. Rather, it grants every bite the certainty one imagines nature herself intended before compromise and survival tempered her designs. The wearer does not become a monster. It simply becomes a finer example of the loyal guardian it has always chosen to be.

I have observed several examples over the centuries, and each has shared a curious characteristic. The animals themselves seem blissfully unaware that anything extraordinary has occurred. They neither posture nor seek unnecessary conflict. A dog wearing such a collar still greets familiar faces with an enthusiastic wag of the tail, still chases thrown sticks with embarrassing determination, and still regards a kind word from its master as reward enough. The magic strengthens the jaws, but it leaves the heart delightfully untouched. I consider that a far greater accomplishment than any increase in damage could ever represent.

The Collar of the Worg and the exceedingly rare Collar of the First Wolf are another matter entirely. Their workmanship surpasses mere craftsmanship and approaches artistry of the highest order. I have examined only one example of the latter, and I departed with more questions than answers. The runes appeared subtly different each time I studied them, as though they reflected not the light about them, but the memories of every faithful beast that had ever worn the collar. Such observations are, admittedly, difficult to verify, though I confess I have long since ceased dismissing impossible things merely because they decline to behave sensibly.

If fortune ever places one of these collars in your possession, remember that it is not the leather, nor the silver, nor even the enchantment that gives the relic its greatest worth. Those are merely tools. The true magic lies in the quiet bond between a person and the creature that chooses to walk beside them without expectation of glory, wealth, or recognition. Any fool may purchase a stronger bite. Loyalty, however, remains among the rarest treasures ever granted to this world, and no wizard - however accomplished - has yet devised a spell capable of creating it.

Amulet of the Honest Heart

Aura Strong divination and enchantment; CL 13th
Slot Neck; Price 54,000 gp; Weight —

DESCRIPTION

Fashioned from polished silver in the shape of an open eye enclosed within a heart, this elegant amulet is warm to the touch and seems to pulse faintly whenever spoken words carry great emotional weight. Tiny runes etched around its edge cannot be deciphered by mundane means, yet every wearer instinctively understands one simple truth the moment the amulet is donned: truth demands a price.

While worn, the amulet grants its bearer supernatural certainty whenever they hear a deliberate falsehood spoken by another creature. Whenever the wearer can hear and understand a spoken statement made by a creature within 60 feet, they instantly know whether that specific statement is an intentional lie. This ability functions continuously and requires no action, concentration, or activation. It penetrates magical disguises, mundane deception, illusions, enchantments, and even effects such as glibness, provided the speaker knowingly communicates something false.

The amulet does not reveal the truth behind a lie, expose omissions, determine motives, or distinguish sarcasm from sincerity. A creature stating something it genuinely believes to be true, even if factually incorrect, does not register as lying.

The gift is inseparably bound to a supernatural compulsion toward honesty. While wearing the amulet, the bearer cannot knowingly communicate false information in any form. Spoken words fail, written falsehoods refuse to form, magical messages cannot contain intentional lies, and any attempt to deceive is involuntarily altered into a truthful statement or ends in silence.

The wearer automatically fails any Bluff check made to deceive another creature, including feinting in combat. The wearer may still withhold information, refuse to answer questions, speak ambiguously, or remain silent. Removing the amulet immediately ends both its benefits and its restrictions.

LORE

Legends speak of an ornament known among judges and magistrates as the Honest Heart. Though descriptions of its appearance vary from culture to culture, every account agrees upon two remarkable qualities. Its bearer becomes incapable of being deceived by deliberate falsehood, yet loses the ability to utter one themselves. Many have sought such a relic believing it to be the perfect instrument of justice, only to discover that truth is often far more difficult to wield than deceit.

In Ville des Marai, one tale attributes the first amulet to a grieving widow whose husband was executed after false testimony secured his conviction. Refusing to allow another innocent life to be stolen through lies, she commissioned priests, witches, and arcane scholars to create a relic capable of exposing every deliberate deception. Their enchantment succeeded beyond expectation. The widow spent the remainder of her life serving as an impartial arbiter whose judgments were never questioned, though she became increasingly isolated as friends and nobles alike learned that even the smallest polite lie was impossible in her presence.

Some philosophers reject the notion that the amulet bears any curse at all. They argue that absolute discernment and absolute honesty are merely two halves of the same principle. To perceive truth perfectly while remaining free to manipulate it would invite corruption beyond measure. Thus, they claim, the amulet does not punish its wearer - it simply demands that anyone entrusted with perfect knowledge of lies must also become incapable of creating them.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, discern lies, zone of truth, geas/quest; Cost 27,000 gp + 2,160 XP

Kelwyn's Notes

Many adventurers see an object such as this and immediately imagine interrogations, criminal investigations, and dramatic courtroom confessions. That is because they imagine lies as rare things uttered only by villains. Spend a single afternoon wearing this amulet in any bustling marketplace and that illusion evaporates with astonishing speed. Merchants exaggerate, children invent excuses, lovers flatter one another, and politicians breathe. One quickly discovers that falsehood is woven through civilization in threads both dark and surprisingly gentle.

I have long maintained that deception is neither wholly evil nor wholly virtuous. A physician may reassure a frightened patient. A parent may soften a painful truth for a child. A diplomat may spare thousands of lives through carefully measured words that reveal less than the whole picture. This amulet grants no wisdom to distinguish kindness from manipulation. It merely announces that a lie has been spoken and forbids its bearer from answering with one of their own.

I once encountered a magistrate who wore such an amulet for nearly twenty years. His reputation became legendary, and litigants traveled hundreds of miles simply to have their disputes heard before him. Yet the poor fellow confessed that he dreaded attending social gatherings more than presiding over murder trials. Friends stopped inviting him to dinner because every conversation became an exercise in uncomfortable sincerity.

The clever soon learn that silence remains a powerful companion. One need not answer every question. One need not volunteer every unpleasant fact. There exists an enormous difference between deception and discretion, and those who master that distinction often become remarkably effective negotiators despite the amulet's restrictions. In truth, I suspect the relic teaches restraint every bit as much as honesty.

Would I wear it? Only for the briefest of moments, and only when the stakes justified such sacrifice. There are times when discovering a single deliberate lie may avert a war or expose a monstrous conspiracy. There are equally many moments when compassion requires gentleness rather than relentless candor. The amulet possesses no judgment of its own. It merely places truth in one's hands and leaves wisdom to determine what should be done with it.

Wheel of Endless Brie

Aura moderate conjuration; CL 9th
Slot —; Price 18,000 gp; Weight 5 lbs.

DESCRIPTION

At first glance, this item appears to be an enormous wheel of pale golden brie wrapped in a flawless wax rind. The cheese is always cool to the touch and never spoils, regardless of age or environmental conditions. It emits a rich, buttery aroma that is pleasantly inviting to humanoids yet does not attract vermin or scavengers.

Once per day, the wielder may activate the Wheel of Endless Brie by speaking its command word as a standard action. For the next 10 minutes, the wheel continuously replenishes itself as portions are removed. During this time, the wheel can produce enough nourishing cheese to feed up to 100 Medium creatures. Any creature that spends at least 1 minute consuming the cheese receives nourishment equivalent to a full day's meals and gains the benefits of a goodberry spell, healing 1 hit point. A creature can benefit from this healing only once per day, regardless of how much cheese it consumes.

Sharing a meal from the wheel inspires fellowship and goodwill. Any creature that eats at least three servings gains a +2 morale bonus on Diplomacy checks for 1 hour. In addition, domesticated animals eagerly accept the cheese as a treat, granting the bearer a +4 circumstance bonus on Handle Animal checks made while offering portions from the wheel.

At the conclusion of the 10-minute duration, the wheel immediately returns to its original size. Any slices removed during the activation remain mundane, wholesome cheese indefinitely, but any magical properties they possess fade after 24 hours. The Wheel of Endless Brie cannot be activated again until the following dawn.

LORE

The first Wheel of Endless Brie was commissioned by Duchess Élodie de Fromage, a noblewoman whose estates bordered the fertile grazing lands of western Da'Ma. Believing that no traveler should ever be turned away hungry, she employed a circle of conjurers, druids, and master cheesemakers to create a feast that could sustain entire villages through the lean months. The resulting enchantment proved so successful that the duchess's annual harvest festivals became legendary throughout the kingdom.

Today, Wheels of Endless Brie are prized not only by wealthy households but also by military quartermasters, charitable temples, and adventuring companies preparing for long expeditions. A single wheel can transform a desperate refugee camp into a place of comfort, or keep an isolated mountain outpost well-fed through an unforgiving winter. Many rulers consider ownership of one to be both a symbol of prosperity and an obligation to provide for those in need.

Not all stories surrounding the wheel are entirely wholesome. Tavern tales insist that a particularly greedy merchant once attempted to monopolize its bounty by selling endless slices throughout an entire kingdom. Before the year was over, every wheel of ordinary cheese in his warehouses had inexplicably transformed into bland, tasteless curds overnight. Whether this was divine punishment, fey mischief, or merely an amusing coincidence remains a matter of spirited debate among scholars and cheesemakers alike.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, create food and water, goodberry; creator must possess 9 ranks in Craft (Cooking) and use a full wheel of artisan-crafted brie aged no fewer than six months as the focus of the enchantment; Cost 9,000 gp + 720 XP

Kelwyn's Notes

There exists a curious tendency among wizards to believe that true magical achievement must always be spectacular. They strive to command storms, imprison dragons, or unravel the very laws governing time itself. Yet I have lived long enough to observe that the enchantments most fondly remembered are often the simplest. A warm fire on a bitter evening. A lantern that never gutters. A blanket that always remains dry. Or, in this case, an inexhaustible wheel of remarkably fine cheese.

One quickly discovers that there are two kinds of adventurers. The first carefully ration every crumb of food, calculating supplies with admirable discipline and worrying endlessly over the next meal. The second see an enchanted wheel of brie and immediately begin discussing wines, crackers, and whether mushrooms might improve the experience. I have traveled beside both sorts, and while the former undoubtedly survive longer on paper, the latter generally tell far better stories.

There is an undeniable magic in sharing food that no spell description can adequately capture. Around a meal, strangers become companions, frightened children remember how to laugh, and even the most hardened mercenary often finds themselves lingering to hear another tale before continuing down the road. One should never underestimate how thoroughly an empty stomach can poison good judgment, nor how effectively a satisfying meal can restore hope when swords and sorcery have accomplished very little.

I recall one particularly obstinate mule that refused to haul a supply wagon another inch until it received its customary slice from one of these wheels. The teamsters insisted the creature had become spoiled by the enchantment. I argued that it had merely learned the value of negotiating from a position of strength. The mule got its cheese. The wagon reached its destination. Everyone involved considered the arrangement entirely satisfactory, save perhaps the accountant responsible for purchasing ordinary feed.

Should fortune ever place one of these marvelous wheels into your possession, cherish it not because it produces endless food, but because it grants endless opportunities to gather people together. Heroes are remembered for slaying monsters, kings for winning wars, and archmages for crafting impossible wonders. Yet ask an old traveler what they remember most vividly, and more often than not they will tell you about a shared meal, good company, and laughter echoing long after the plates had been cleared. That, I think, is a kind of magic worthy of preservation.

Ring of the Tailor's Wardrobe

Aura moderate transmutation; CL 9th
Slot ring; Price 18,000 gp (18 pp); Weight —

Description

This elegant silver ring is engraved with an endless pattern of needles, thread, and flowering vines. Tiny gemstones set into the band subtly shift in color to complement whatever garments the wearer currently possesses.

Three times per day, the wearer may speak a command word while mentally visualizing a complete outfit. Over the course of 1 full round, their current mundane clothing transforms into a new ensemble matching the wearer's mental image.

The wearer has complete control over every aspect of the outfit's appearance, including its style, cut, colors, patterns, apparent fabrics, embroidery, trim, heraldry, insignia, and decorative details. The ring may create accessories appropriate to the ensemble, including cloaks, gloves, scarves, hats, belts, boots, decorative jewelry, and similar articles of attire.

The ring may create clothing suitable for virtually any social or professional role, including commoners, nobles, merchants, sailors, scholars, priests, entertainers, travelers, hunters, servants, or diplomats. The garments are always perfectly fitted, immaculately clean, and appropriate to the wearer's size.

The ring cannot create armor, shields, weapons, tools, containers, masterwork items, magic items, or any object that provides a game effect. Likewise, it cannot create clothing that grants an armor bonus, skill bonus, enhancement bonus, energy resistance, damage reduction, or any other mechanical benefit. The clothing is entirely mundane despite its flawless craftsmanship.

Any article created by the ring remains only while worn by its owner. If a created garment is removed from the wearer for more than one round, it immediately crumbles into a fine gray dust. A cloak loaned to another creature, boots removed before retiring for the evening, or a hat left upon a table all vanish in this fashion.

If the ring itself is removed while conjured clothing still exists, every article created by the ring disintegrates into dust one round later unless the wearer has already changed into ordinary clothing.

The ring cannot alter the wearer's body, race, age, gender, height, weight, or physical features. It affects only clothing and decorative accessories.

Construction

Requirements Forge Ring, major creation, prestidigitation; Cost 9,000 gp (9 pp) + 720 XP

Lore

The Ring of the Tailor's Wardrobe has long been prized by those whose success depends more upon presentation than upon martial prowess. Diplomats carry one to ensure they are appropriately attired for every court they visit, merchants use them to present an image of prosperity regardless of the hardships endured upon the road, and performers delight in changing costumes with impossible speed. Even seasoned adventurers have been known to keep one tucked away for those rare occasions when appearing respectable is more valuable than carrying another weapon.

The earliest examples are believed to have been commissioned jointly by master tailors and accomplished transmuters in one of the great trade cities of the ancient world. Their goal was not to replace the tailor's craft, but to create a magical wardrobe that could adapt instantly to changing circumstances without diminishing the value of genuine clothing. To that end, the enchantment was deliberately designed so that no garment could exist apart from its wearer, ensuring that the ring could never flood markets with counterfeit finery.

Collectors have noted that authentic Rings of the Tailor's Wardrobe invariably produce clothing of remarkable quality regardless of the wearer's own knowledge of fashion. The magic seems to understand proportion, balance, and elegance instinctively, often producing garments more refined than the wearer consciously imagined. Despite this subtle intelligence, every attempt to force the ring to create armor, protective equipment, or permanent goods has failed, suggesting that its enchantment is bound by carefully crafted limitations established by its original creators.

Kelwyn's Notes

I have often maintained that clothing is a language every bit as expressive as speech. Before a single word is exchanged, one's attire announces station, profession, confidence, wealth, and sometimes even intent. Those who dismiss such things rarely understand why doors seem to open more readily for others.

There exists a temptation among younger wizards to rely upon illusion whenever appearances matter. I have never shared that enthusiasm. An illusion invites suspicion from those trained to recognize magic, whereas a finely tailored coat is seldom questioned. Reality, even magically created reality, possesses a credibility illusion seldom achieves.

I find the ring's refusal to create armor particularly wise. Clothing serves comfort, dignity, ceremony, and expression. Armor serves survival. Confusing the purposes of the two has led more than one overconfident noble to discover precisely how little embroidered silk contributes to one's defense.

The enchantment's insistence that abandoned garments dissolve into dust is equally sensible. Were these outfits permanent, every marketplace in the realm would soon overflow with flawless clothing requiring neither loom nor tailor. Honest craftsmen would find themselves competing against inexhaustible magic, a contest few professions could survive.

Wear this ring to express who you are, or perhaps who circumstances require you to become for an evening. Just remember that no garment, however magnificent, can disguise poor character forever. Eventually every conversation reaches the point where appearances fall silent, leaving only the substance of the person wearing them.

Flask of Ingratitude

Aura: Faint Conjuration; CL 5th
Slot: None; Weight: 1 lb.

Description

At first glance, this appears to be an ordinary leather-wrapped steel travel flask with a polished wooden stopper. The metal is always cool to the touch, even when left beneath the blazing sun or beside a roaring fire. No matter how much water is poured from it, the flask never empties, continuously replenishing itself with cool, crystal-clear drinking water.

Any creature that drinks from the flask regains 1d4 hit points of damage. A creature can benefit from this healing no more than once per hour, though the water remains refreshing regardless of how often it is consumed.

The flask, however, possesses an enchantment that borders on the absurd.

Immediately after every drink, the user must offer a sincere expression of gratitude to the flask before taking any other action. The wording is unimportant. "Thank you," "Much appreciated," "You're a lifesaver," or any similarly genuine expression of thanks is sufficient.

Failure to do so invokes the flask's curse.

The creature must succeed on a DC 16 Fortitude save or become afflicted with an intense bout of magical diarrhea. While afflicted, the creature is sickened for 1d4 hours and must spend a move action every 10 minutes tending to its discomfort. The creature cannot run or charge while the curse persists.

Additional failures while already afflicted do not worsen the effects but immediately reset the remaining duration to its full value.

The curse ends immediately if the afflicted creature sincerely apologizes to the flask while holding it. Otherwise, the condition ends naturally when its duration expires. A remove curse spell suppresses the flask's curse for 24 hours but does not permanently alter the item.

Lore

No one agrees where the first Flask of Ingratitude was created. Monastic records speak of an order that believed gratitude was among the highest virtues, teaching that even the simplest kindness deserved acknowledgment. Other scholars dismiss this explanation, insisting that no sane cleric would intentionally bind so ridiculous a curse into an otherwise useful item.

A more popular tale credits an elderly enchanter who grew tired of apprentices constantly helping themselves to his magical supplies without so much as a word of thanks. After enduring years of perceived disrespect, he supposedly vowed that his next creation would teach manners more effectively than lectures ever could. If the stories are true, the experiment proved remarkably successful.

Veteran adventurers often laugh when hearing of the flask for the first time. Few continue laughing after witnessing a seasoned warrior sprint awkwardly behind the nearest bush because they absentmindedly took a drink during a long march. Consequently, owners of the flask tend to become the most consistently polite travelers anyone has ever met.

Kelwyn's Notes

I have long maintained that the difference between civilization and barbarism is often measured in the smallest of courtesies. Holding a door, offering a greeting, acknowledging a kindness - these cost nothing and yet enrich every soul involved. Whoever created this flask clearly shared that sentiment, although perhaps with a somewhat unbalanced enthusiasm.

The enchantment fascinates me because it demonstrates no malice. The flask eagerly provides clean water without limit and heals injuries without hesitation. Only after its generosity has been accepted without acknowledgment does the curse awaken. It is as though the magic itself finds ingratitude fundamentally offensive.

I once observed a company of mercenaries traveling with one of these curious relics. By the second day, every member of the company had developed the habit of thanking nearly every object they handled. They thanked ropes for holding, tents for sheltering them from the rain, cooking pots for producing decent stew and, on one memorable occasion, a mule for standing still while being loaded. None of them seemed to realize how their manners had quietly improved.

There are, admittedly, moments when the flask's standards become somewhat unreasonable. During an ambush, one young ranger took a hurried drink between volleys of arrows and instinctively rushed back into the fight. Several minutes later, I watched him disappear into the underbrush with an expression that suggested he had made a profound tactical error. His companions won the battle but never allowed him to forget what had truly defeated him.

Should you ever come into possession of this item, I offer only one piece of advice: cultivate good habits. Make gratitude your first response, not because the flask demands it, but because the world is improved by those who freely express appreciation. The flask merely provides... unusually persuasive encouragement.