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.

Oil of the Closed Lantern

Strong abjuration; CL 13th
Slot —; Price 38,500 gp; Weight 1 lb.

DESCRIPTION

This thick, pearl-gray oil swirls with faint ribbons of violet beneath its surface, as though shadows drift endlessly within the liquid itself. When uncorked, it releases a faint odor reminiscent of extinguished candles and old parchment left beneath cathedral stones. The oil is traditionally stored within lead-lined crystal vials etched with tiny staring eyes that appear to close when the container is sealed.

When applied to the skin, armor, or exposed flesh as a full-round action, the Oil of the Closed Lantern grants the user powerful defenses against the invasive psychic predations of mind flayers and similar creatures. For the next 13 minutes, the affected creature gains immunity to all forms of magical or supernatural mind-reading, including detect thoughts, telepathy-based surface thought scanning, and any ability that specifically reads or interprets the target’s conscious mind. Creatures attempting such effects perceive only dull static and fragmented emotional impressions.

In addition, during the oil’s duration, the user gains a +6 alchemical bonus on saving throws against enchantment spells and effects, psionic compulsions, mind-affecting abilities, and all extraordinary or supernatural abilities originating from aberrations. This bonus specifically applies against the mind blast ability of illithids, as well as against abilities that would stun, dominate, confuse, charm, or mentally enslave the target.

Most importantly, while under the oil’s effects, the user’s thoughts become partially “misaligned” from conventional psychic perception. Any creature attempting to establish telepathic contact with the target must succeed on a DC 22 Will save or become sickened for 1d4 rounds as alien feedback and recursive mental echoes lash against its consciousness. Mind flayers subjected to this backlash often describe the sensation as “hearing their own hunger reflected back at them.”

The oil does not protect against physical attacks, extraction attempts already in progress, or non-mental supernatural effects. Applying a second dose while one is already active immediately nauseates the user for 1 round and provides no additional benefit.

LORE

Among the hidden enclaves that wage silent wars beneath the earth, the Oil of the Closed Lantern is spoken of with the same reverence soldiers reserve for siege walls and sharpened steel. Illithids are feared not merely because they consume flesh, but because they violate the sanctity of the self long before their tentacles ever touch the skin. To face one unprotected is to stand naked before a predator that can sift through memory as easily as a butcher selects cuts of meat.

The oil was first devised by monastic archivists who survived repeated incursions into subterranean libraries claimed by elder brains. These scholars discovered a horrifying truth - the mind flayers remembered every fear they tasted. Entire campaigns collapsed because illithids harvested tactical knowledge directly from terrified prisoners, turning secrets into weapons. The archivists sought not merely to hide thought, but to poison the act of psychic intrusion itself.

The resulting formula required years of experimentation involving dream-distilled mercury, powdered pearl harvested from blind cave mollusks, and oils extracted from plants grown in total darkness. Early versions simply deadened emotional projection, but stronger mixtures induced dangerous dissociation in the user, leaving victims unable to recognize their own identities after prolonged use. Modern preparations strike a careful balance between concealment and preservation of the self.

Veterans who have survived encounters with mind flayers often speak of the oil in deeply personal terms. They claim the substance does not merely hide thoughts but muffles the soul’s “psychic lantern” - the invisible glow intelligent minds emit into the astral dark. Illithids navigating by telepathic instinct suddenly find only absence where prey should be. For creatures that have spent millennia feeding upon certainty, such emptiness is profoundly disturbing.

There are darker rumors as well. Some whisper that elder brains despise the oil not solely because it denies them access, but because the substance was originally derived from the preserved neural tissue of a renegade illithid mystic who sought freedom from the collective consciousness of its kind. Whether true or not, mind flayers have been known to react with visible agitation when the scent of the oil reaches them.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, mind blank, nondetection, protection from evil, creator must have 8 ranks in Knowledge (dungeoneering); Cost 19,250 gp + 1,540 XP + powdered black pearl worth 2,000 gp and a vial of oil rendered from a subterranean blind eel

Kelwyn’s Notes

There exists a peculiar arrogance among creatures that feed upon thought. The illithid does not merely believe itself superior to mankind - it believes mankind fundamentally transparent. To such entities, consciousness is not sacred. It is architecture. Rooms to be entered. Drawers to be opened. Flesh is almost secondary to them; what they truly hunger for is access.

The Oil of the Closed Lantern fascinates me because it represents one of the rare moments in civilized history where humanity answered psychic tyranny not with louder violence, but with refusal. The oil does not scream against intrusion. It closes the shutters. It denies the voyeur his candlelight. There is dignity in that. A locked door may appear unimpressive beside a sharpened sword, yet history repeatedly demonstrates that the most terrible monsters are often thwarted first by the simple declaration that they are not welcome.

I have observed the effect firsthand upon an illithid once - a deeply unpleasant experience I do not intend to repeat. The creature recoiled not in pain, but in confusion. Imagine a man reaching for his own reflection and finding only cold stone where the mirror should be. The absence unsettled it more than hostility would have. Predators expect resistance. They do not expect silence.

One must also appreciate the subtle psychological consequence imposed upon the user. For thirteen minutes, one walks through the world carrying a private interior that cannot easily be touched. Many who survive encounters with mind flayers describe a lifelong terror thereafter - the certainty that their thoughts are no longer truly their own. This oil grants temporary restoration of that most fragile luxury: mental solitude.

And perhaps that is why the illithids despise it so profoundly.

Not because it protects the brain.

Because it reminds lesser beings that the mind belongs to itself.

Oil of the Still Heart

Moderate enchantment and necromancy; CL 9th
Slot —; Price 5,400 gp; Weight 1 lb.

DESCRIPTION

The Oil of the Still Heart appears as a thick, dark amber fluid suspended within a squat black-glass bottle sealed with funeral wax. Flecks of silver drift through the liquid like slow-moving ash, and the oil emits a faint scent of rain upon cold stone. When exposed to open air, the substance clings unnaturally to surfaces, spreading in thin veins reminiscent of frost across a windowpane.

Applying the Oil of the Still Heart to the chest of a living creature requires a full-round action and immediately numbs the body’s physical responses to fear, panic, and supernatural terror. For the next 10 minutes, the affected creature gains immunity to all fear effects, both magical and mundane, including dragon fear auras, spells such as fear and scare, and similar abilities. In addition, the creature gains a +4 alchemical bonus on saving throws against death effects, negative energy effects, and abilities that specifically target courage or morale.

While under the oil’s effects, the creature’s pulse slows dramatically, causing the skin to grow pale and cool. Undead creatures and creatures using scent suffer a -6 penalty on checks made to detect the affected target by smell or heartbeat. The creature also gains a +4 circumstance bonus on Hide checks made against undead.

However, the oil imposes emotional suppression upon the user. While affected, the creature cannot benefit from morale bonuses of any kind, including bardic music, bless, rage, or similar effects fueled by emotional fervor. Creatures under the oil’s influence also suffer a -2 penalty on Diplomacy and Perform checks, as their speech becomes hollow and emotionally distant.

The oil may also be applied to a corpse no older than one hour after death. Doing so preserves the body from decay for seven days as though affected by gentle repose. A single vial contains enough oil for one application.

LORE

The first Oil of the Still Heart was believed to have been created during the plague-wars of the Kingdom of Vhalis, where grave-clerics and battlefield surgeons struggled against supernatural terror unleashed by necromancers. Entire battalions reportedly broke ranks not because they were wounded, but because they could hear the dead speaking from beneath the soil. It is said that the original alchemist, a widow named Meris Vale, sought not bravery, but silence within the body itself. If fear could not be conquered, she reasoned, then perhaps it could simply be made incapable of expression.

The process of creating the oil involves steeping powdered moonstone, grave-lilies, and distilled blackroot within embalming spirits under absolute darkness for nine consecutive nights. During this period, the alchemist must neither speak nor permit any music within hearing distance of the brewing chamber. Superstitious makers insist the oil listens while it forms, and that too much passion spoils the mixture. Even among experienced alchemists, improperly prepared batches occasionally become unstable, causing recipients to lose nearly all emotional affect for several hours.

Among monster hunters and crypt-delvers, the Oil of the Still Heart is regarded with a strange mixture of gratitude and unease. Veterans claim it grants a sensation not of courage, but of absence - as though the body briefly forgets how to be afraid. Some warriors deliberately avoid using it repeatedly, believing that prolonged dependence slowly erodes one’s humanity. Tales persist of tomb-raiders who survived horrors no sane mind could endure, only to return home emotionally hollow, unable to laugh, grieve, or feel awe.

Certain funerary cults employ the oil for more ceremonial purposes. In lands plagued by restless dead, mourners anoint the deceased before burial so wandering spirits cannot easily locate the soul through lingering traces of mortal vitality. In these traditions, the oil is less a preservative and more a final veil drawn between the living and the grave.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, gentle repose, remove fear, death ward; Cost 2,700 gp + 216 XP

Kelwyn’s Notes

There exists a profound distinction between courage and the inability to feel fear. Most dimensions confuse the two with alarming frequency. Courage is a triumph of the soul over terror - a declaration that one shall continue despite trembling hands and an uncertain heart. This oil does something far stranger. It quiets the trembling itself. One does not become brave while under its influence. One simply becomes still.

I once observed a soldier coated in this substance before entering a crypt beneath the city of Mourning Glass. The dead rose around him in dreadful silence, their jaws clicking like old locks in the dark, yet he did not flinch. Nor did he pray. Nor curse. Nor hesitate. He advanced with the mechanical certainty of a clockwork device carrying out its final instruction. When the ordeal concluded, his companions celebrated him as fearless. Yet when they embraced him, he stared through them with the vacant expression of a corpse attempting to remember affection.

Technological dimensions often pursue similar achievements through chemicals, implants, or neurological suppression. They seek to edit terror from the mind as though fear were merely an inconvenience rather than a sacred warning crafted by existence itself. But fear has purpose. It sharpens awareness. It preserves life. It reminds mortals that they are finite creatures standing before an infinite and often merciless cosmos.

And yet… I confess there are moments when I understand why such things are made.

There are horrors within the dimensions that do not merely frighten. They unmake certainty itself. There are sounds one may hear that linger in the bones forever. Places where reality groans like an injured animal. In such moments, some individuals would rather surrender part of their humanity than feel the full weight of terror pressing against their soul.

Perhaps that is the true purpose of the Oil of the Still Heart. Not to create heroes… but to permit ordinary people to walk, however briefly, through places where courage alone is no longer enough.

Potion of Unsettled Potential

Aura Moderate Universal; CL 7th
Slot —; Price 1,050 gp; Weight —

DESCRIPTION

This small glass vial contains a thick, cerulean liquid that constantly shimmers with drifting motes of light, as though tiny fragments of stars were suspended within it. When agitated, the liquid does not slosh normally, but instead folds and curls into itself, briefly forming shapes that resemble sigils, runes, or half-remembered spell diagrams.

Upon drinking the potion, the imbiber’s mind fractures into a state of hyper-fluid magical cognition for 7 minutes. During this time, whenever the drinker casts a spell of 3rd level or lower, they may choose to delay the final shaping of the spell.

Instead of resolving immediately, the spell enters a Suspended Spell State - an invisible, intangible arcane construct that orbits the caster in a latent form. The caster may maintain a number of suspended spells equal to their Intelligence modifier (minimum 1).

At any point before the potion’s duration ends, the caster may release any number of suspended spells as a free action, even outside their turn. When released, each spell resolves instantly as if just cast, using the original caster level, targets, and decisions made at the time of casting.

However, each time a spell is suspended, the caster must succeed on a Will save (DC 14 + spell level) or the spell’s parameters destabilize. Upon release, a destabilized spell has a 50% chance to affect a different valid target within range (determined randomly), or originate from a point within 10 feet of the intended origin (also determined randomly).

Spells held beyond the potion’s duration collapse harmlessly, but the caster takes 1d6 points of nonlethal damage per lost spell as mental backlash.

This potion has no effect on spells above 3rd level, spell-like abilities, or prepared spells that have already been cast.

LORE

There are those who insist that magic is a language - precise, structured, and absolute. They are, by all observable standards, correct. Yet the existence of this potion presents an uncomfortable contradiction: what if magic, at its most fundamental level, is not a language, but a conversation?

The Potion of Unsettled Potential is believed to have originated from a reclusive arcanist who became obsessed with the idea that spells are not created at the moment of casting, but merely chosen from a vast, unseen spectrum of possible outcomes. His notes - what little remain - describe magic as “a field of unrealized decisions, waiting for a mind bold enough to refuse immediacy.”

The shimmering within the liquid is not illusion, nor simple arcane residue. Divinatory examination reveals that each flicker corresponds to a branching magical possibility - a spell not yet fixed into reality. To drink the potion is not to gain power in the traditional sense, but to briefly step outside the rigid sequence of cause and effect that governs spellcasting.

Most wizards find the experience deeply unsettling. To hold a spell without releasing it is to feel it pressing back, as though the magic itself resents being denied its conclusion. Some describe it as holding one’s breath - others as preventing a scream.

CONSTRUCTION

Requirements Brew Potion, haste, minor image, delay poison; Cost 525 gp, 42 XP

Special: The creation of this potion requires a sliver of crystal that has been exposed to a readied but uncast spell, which must be willingly dismissed during the brewing process.

Kelwyn’s Notes

There exists, within the practiced mind of every spellcaster, a quiet assumption - that a spell, once begun, must inevitably conclude. That magic, like a falling stone, obeys a singular direction: forward, downward, finished.

This potion rejects that notion with a most unsettling elegance.

To hold a spell in suspension is not merely to delay it, but to deny it purpose. One begins to perceive, quite viscerally, that magic possesses a kind of momentum - not physical, but intentional. It wishes to occur. It strains toward completion with a persistence that borders on the animate.

And what, then, are we to make of the mage who interrupts this process? Who gathers unfinished workings about themselves like orbiting fragments of thought, choosing not whether to cast, but when reality is permitted to acknowledge it?

There is a subtle arrogance in such an act. Not the crude arrogance of power, but the refined and dreadful arrogance of interference. The suggestion that time itself may be negotiated with, that consequence may be postponed and released at whim.

I cannot help but wonder what becomes of a mind that grows accustomed to such freedoms.

For if one may delay a spell… one may begin to question what else need not happen immediately.

Potion of Seduction

Potion of Seduction

Aura faint transmutation; CL 2nd
Slot —; Price 400 gp; Weight —

This potion is housed in a slender lavender-glass vial stoppered with a soft wax seal. When uncorked, a faint, perfumed vapor spills forth in delicate curls, carrying a subtle floral scent that lingers in the air. Upon imbibing, the drinker’s presence becomes uncannily compelling - their voice gains a silken cadence, their movements flow with effortless grace, and their features seem to align with the desires of those who behold them.

For 4 minutes, the imbiber gains a +4 enhancement bonus to Charisma. This bonus applies to all Charisma-based checks and Charisma-related abilities as normal. Creatures who are already predisposed to find the imbiber sexually attractive perceive them as exceptionally alluring, often granting favorable reactions at the DM’s discretion, though this effect does not compel behavior or override free will.

Spellcasters who rely on Charisma (such as sorcerers and bards) benefit from the increased modifier when determining spell save DCs during the potion’s duration. However, this effect does not grant additional bonus spells. This potion has no effect on creatures immune to mind-affecting effects in terms of attraction or allure, though the Charisma bonus still applies normally.

Construction

Requirements Brew Potion, eagle’s splendor;
Cost 200 gp + 16 XP

Ingredients Distilled essence of night-blooming jasmine, a drop of honeyed wine blessed under a waxing moon, powdered rose quartz, and a whisper of perfumer’s oil steeped with crushed lavender petals.

Lore

Among the perfumed courts and shadowed balconies of river-bound cities, this potion is as much a social weapon as any dagger. It is said to have first been crafted by a cabal of courtesans who sought an edge not of beauty, but of presence - an aura that could turn glances into fixation and conversation into longing. Their recipes spread quietly, traded in velvet-lined cases and whispered favors.

In less refined circles, the potion has found a second life among grifters, spies, and silver-tongued assassins. A single vial can open doors that would otherwise remain barred, loosen lips sealed by caution, or turn suspicion into fascination. Many who rely on it too heavily, however, discover that the line between genuine connection and manufactured allure becomes dangerously thin.

Rumors persist of rarer variants - deeper in hue, heavier in scent - that do more than enhance charm, instead bending hearts toward obsession. Such concoctions are widely feared, often outlawed, and almost never sold openly. The standard potion, by comparison, remains just respectable enough to pass beneath notice… at least until its effects begin to linger in memory.

Kelwyn’s Notes…

No… I do not partake.

Let us be precise about what this is, stripped of perfume and pretense: it is not charm, nor wit, nor even deception in the traditional sense. It is coercion dressed as admiration. A subtle theft of agency, wherein another’s will is gently… redirected, and their affections rendered suspect by design. I have encountered it often enough to recognize its signature immediately - that faint wrongness beneath the surface of an otherwise natural exchange.

And that, I find, intolerable.

Influence, persuasion, even manipulation - these are honest games, in their way. They rely on skill, perception, and the mutual risk of engagement. This… removes the contest entirely. It does not win hearts; it tilts them. It does not inspire interest; it imposes it. One may as well boast of winning a duel after dulling the opponent’s blade in advance.

No, I have no use for such things. If someone listens to me, I prefer it to be because they chose to listen - whether out of curiosity, fear, respect, or even irritation. Those are real currencies. This potion deals in counterfeit.

Keep it, if you must. Trade it. Lock it away in some velvet-lined box and admire its utility from a comfortable distance. But do not mistake its effects for anything resembling connection. It does not bring minds together - it simply ensures one of them never had a fair say in the matter.

Sanctified Potions

Aura moderate conjuration (healing); CL 7th (varies by potion)
Slot —; Price see below; Weight —

These softly effervescent green draughts release a faint aroma reminiscent of fresh bread and sacred incense. Tiny bubbles rise continuously within the liquid, forming and dissolving in gentle, rhythmic patterns. When consumed, a sanctified potion restores expended divine spellcasting capacity.

Sanctified potions function only for divine spellcasters (such as clerics, druids, paladins, and rangers). Arcane casters gain no benefit.

New Rule: Restoring Spell Levels

Sanctified potions restore a number of spell levels, not specific spells.

• The caster regains expended spell slots whose total levels equal the potion’s value.
• The caster chooses how these levels are distributed among their available spell slots.
• No spell slot may be restored beyond the caster’s normal daily maximum.
• A caster cannot restore spell slots of a level they are not capable of casting.
• Using a sanctified potion is a standard action that provokes attacks of opportunity.

Example: A cleric who drinks a Sanctified Potion, Standard (5 levels) could restore one 5th-level spell slot, a 3rd-level and a 2nd-level slot, or any combination totaling five levels.

Types of Sanctified Potions

Sanctified Potion, Minor
Aura faint conjuration; CL 3rd
Price 300 gp
Restores 1 spell level

Sanctified Potion, Light
Aura faint conjuration; CL 5th
Price 900 gp
Restores 3 spell levels

Sanctified Potion, Standard
Aura moderate conjuration; CL 7th
Price 1,500 gp
Restores 5 spell levels

Sanctified Potion, Great
Aura moderate conjuration; CL 9th
Price 2,100 gp
Restores 7 spell levels

Sanctified Potion, Super
Aura strong conjuration; CL 11th
Price 2,700 gp
Restores 9 spell levels

Construction

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, creator must be able to cast divine spells
Special Requirement powdered jade worth 25 gp per spell level restored; the potion must be blessed during creation by a divine caster of the same tradition (cleric, druid, etc.)

Cost to Create 1/2 market price + XP cost
XP Cost 1/25 of market price

Time 1 day per 1,000 gp of the base price (minimum 1 day)

Although similar to standard potions, sanctified potions do not replicate a specific spell effect. Instead, they channel raw divine favor, and are therefore treated as wondrous items rather than items created via Brew Potion.

Lore

The origins of sanctified potions are deeply entwined with the rituals of early temple orders, where priests sought a means to sustain their divine duties during prolonged crises. Unlike arcane innovations, which are often born from experimentation, sanctified potions are said to have emerged from prayer, revelation, and sacred tradition. Many faiths claim their deity granted the first formula as a blessing during a time of great need.

The use of powdered jade is believed to symbolize spiritual purity and the endurance of the soul. When properly consecrated, the substance acts as a vessel for divine grace, allowing it to be held briefly in mortal form. The bubbling nature of the potion is often interpreted as a sign of life, renewal, and the ever-present breath of the divine.

Not all religious orders accept sanctified potions without hesitation. Some see them as a gift - a way to extend the reach of healing and miracles. Others regard them with caution, arguing that divine power is not meant to be stored or rationed like a mundane resource. In stricter traditions, their use is reserved for holy warriors or times of dire emergency, lest reliance upon them weaken true faith.

Mana Potions

Aura moderate transmutation; CL 7th (varies by potion)
Slot —; Price see below; Weight —

These luminous blue draughts shimmer faintly when agitated and carry a crisp citrus scent. When consumed, a mana potion restores expended spellcasting capacity to an arcane caster. Each potion must be fully imbibed to function.

Mana potions interact only with prepared or spontaneous arcane spellcasters (such as wizards, sorcerers, and bards). Divine casters gain no benefit.

New Rule: Restoring Spell Levels

Mana potions restore a number of spell levels, not specific spells.

• The caster regains expended spell slots whose total levels equal the potion’s value.
• The caster chooses how these levels are distributed among their available spell slots.
• No spell slot may be restored beyond the caster’s normal daily maximum.
• A caster cannot restore spell slots of a level they are not capable of casting.
• Using a mana potion is a standard action that provokes attacks of opportunity.

Example: A wizard who drinks a Mana Potion, Standard (5 levels) could restore one 5th-level spell slot, or a 3rd-level and a 2nd-level slot, or five 1st-level slots, etc.

Types of Mana Potions

Mana Potion, Minor
Aura faint transmutation; CL 3rd
Price 300 gp
Restores 1 spell level

Mana Potion, Light
Aura faint transmutation; CL 5th
Price 900 gp
Restores 3 spell levels

Mana Potion, Standard
Aura moderate transmutation; CL 7th
Price 1,500 gp
Restores 5 spell levels

Mana Potion, Great
Aura moderate transmutation; CL 9th
Price 2,100 gp
Restores 7 spell levels

Mana Potion, Super
Aura strong transmutation; CL 11th
Price 2,700 gp
Restores 9 spell levels

Construction

Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, creator must be able to cast arcane spells
Special Requirement powdered sapphire worth 25 gp per spell level restored

Cost to Create 1/2 market price + XP cost
XP Cost 1/25 of market price

Time 1 day per 1,000 gp of the base price (minimum 1 day)

Although similar in form to potions, mana potions do not duplicate a spell effect and therefore cannot be created using Brew Potion. Instead, they are treated as wondrous items due to their unique interaction with spellcasting resources.

Lore

Arcane scholars disagree on who first devised mana potions, but most attribute their creation to a reclusive circle of wizards who sought to overcome the rigid limitations of prepared magic. Their experiments focused on distilling raw arcane potential into a stable liquid form - a feat long thought impossible due to the volatile nature of unbound magical energy.

The breakthrough came with the discovery that finely ground sapphire could act as a lattice for arcane resonance, allowing magical energy to be suspended within fluid without immediate dissipation. This innovation transformed mana potions from dangerous curiosities into reliable tools, though their creation remains expensive and somewhat unpredictable.

Despite their utility, mana potions are viewed with suspicion in many magical traditions. Some conservative academies forbid their use entirely, claiming they encourage reckless spellcasting and disrupt the natural cadence of magical study. Others embrace them as a symbol of arcane mastery - proof that even the fundamental limits of magic can be bent by those clever enough to try.