The Spork of Oberon

The Spork of Oberon

The Spoooooorrrrrrrrk

*Hold fast to thine heinies, ye frail fancy folk! For this yarn were spun by none other than Piknik the Bold, High Wizard of the Order of Unlikely, Slayer of the Solar Snail of the thrice-annexed ghost marshes, and keeper of the secretest of secrets, a secret so secret not even a fellow as wise and wonderful as Piknik the Bold can know it! (That guy can't keep anything to himself)*

Twas long ago in the Forest of Avalon when King Overlong and Tatiana werest wed, and of course the royal lovers didst make with much spungilious merriment and boogying. A great feast was prepared in honor of their divine nuptials, and the strange and silly folks who attended (both invited and otherwise) were showered in delightful cakes and crumpets and all manner of tasty treats! In fact, Lord Ubersong himself was chowing down on a delightful stew made with beef tips and carrots and, unfortunately, a handful of radishes (sneaky little monsters...), but alas his joy and merriment were to be cut short! For when he moved to take up his beef tips with his spoon, the meat proved too slippery, and plopped back into the broth! In his hanger, Evergong threw over the tables, and ran about the hall smashing pots and barrels, and demanded his most trusted blacksmith be brought forth. As Blorghi the One Eye'd (a mad half-troll from a lovely little swamp up north. I'm reasonably sure he's my great aunt. Don't ask.) stepped forth, the fair King demanded he craft him a utensil that could hold both broth and meat, simultaneously! Blorghi nodded grimly and retreated to his workshop, and after days of drafting and planning, he crafted IT! Carved from the antler of a wild stag, preserved in a layer of amber, fired and hardened in Blorghi's kiln and finally sprinkled with a pinch of glitter (vital), the mystic Spork was presented to the young King. They say Groberon still keeps the Spork amongst his personal cutlery at his place at the head of his great table, amidst the largest and most shimmery mead hall, in case his chefs ever deign to make the tricksy beef stew again (all chefs involved in Blorgon's wedding feast were fired, beaten, mocked in public, beheaded and finally stabbed).

Attributes:

You can use it to eat soup! AND gafelka fish! What is this beauteous absurdity?!?!?!

Stats:

While King What's-His-Chunks isn't too keen on sharing the spork, if you were to get your mits on it you could probably poke someone in the tuckus with it for 1d6 damage.

Also, while it has never been tested in the field, I'm reasonably sure the spork can be used to open a portal to the Twice Forgotten Squishy Realms and summon a Pernicious Flicker-Whistler: a rotundous and flippery beast with the head of an elephant, the eyes of a spider, the beak of a rock hopper penguin, the body of a giraffe, and a series of tentacles of various lengths where its legs should be. This beast is incredibly powerful and well versed in the forgotten Arcane Arts of Shallacky the Soup Mage, and armed as such it would be more than capable of sending our world careening towards oblivion in its tentacular fury. Don't quote me on that though.

Kullervo's Blade

Kullervo's Blade

Kullervo's Blade

Woe unto that poor youth Kullervo! For this be the cruel blade that didst drink his young blood when, alas, Kullervo had slain all those he desired to slay only to find his family struck down themselves, and in  his grief he didst throw himself upon the ebony spike and breathed no more. Aye, the dark blade welcomed Kullervo's life fluids, as satisfied to end the lad's rage-filled life as it was to cut down his foes... And the blade made sure Kullervo knew as much. For the blade is no mere sword of mortal make but an enchanted sword, a boon stolen from the hordes of Ukko, a storm god from foreign parts, and the sword has a mind and desires of its own. The blade clattered to the hard ground with clang like unto thunder as Kullervo fell dead beside it, and in that sad, desolate place it should have stayed. But alas, there are always bandits afoot in places such as those, and so the sword was taken. Tis a dreaded boon of rage and power, dragging its wielder into crazed battle, hewing down foes with cold delight before finally claiming its wielder as it did Kullervo. The tragic ritual has been repeated countless times, and as to who the current holder is or what the sword desires, who can say? Mayhpas the sword wishes to find its way back home, to Ukko's armory , or perhaps it merely revels in the heat of battle, taking strength and nourishment from the blood spattered upon its edge. Whatever the case, the novice adventurer would do well to think twice before taking up the ebony blade...

Attributes:

As a Lord of Storm, like Perūn, it should be no surprise that Ukko's blade can channel the elemental powers. The blade's hilt is also noteworthy, for it was carved from a rowan tree, making it especially effective against fey creatures. However, the most curious aspect of the blade is its effect on its wielder. Adventurers that have wielded the blade over the years have usually stumbled upon it at a moment of great sorrow and tragedy. Whether by fate, design or coincidence, such downcast warriors find themselves seduced by the weapon, feeling the raw, angry powers hidden just beneath the dark surface. The longer one holds the blade, the more difficult it will become to control themselves in battle. Many a promising warrior has found himself so taken with the blade and the heat and glory of battle that they don't even realize they've gutted their own friends and families, with some spending hours under the blade's berserker spell before returning to their senses. It is usually at this point that despondent fighters will cast themselves upon the blade, and the tragic cycle begins anew...

Stats:

Damage: 1d10+1d6 spark damage
Aura of Confusion (Fey only): as the hilt is carved from Rowan tree wood, fey creatures that come within a ten foot diameter surrounding the wielder will be struck with confusion (acts as spell). WIS save negates.
Spells: Because of the Blade's connection to the god Ukko, once per week (once per day for wielders with a WIS score of 16 and above) may cast one of the following spells: Wall of Wind, Sleet Storm or Lightning Bolt
Berserk: The wielder must pass a WIS check after three combat rounds have passed, and each subsequent combat round to ensure they do not mistake friends as foes. The initial challenge level will be 2, with the challenge level increasing by 1 every combat round (Example: after 8 combat rounds, the wielder will have to subtract 7 from their WIS save).

Furthermore, the Blade has occasionally spoken with a human voice. The most noteworthy example of this was during Kullervo's lament, wherein the lad asked the blade if it would accept it's wielders life, to which the Blade responded with delight at the idea. Who knows what else the cruel thing might have to say...?

Death's Chess Set

Death's Chess Set

Death's Chess Set:

Long ago there was a young man who took a journey through a perilous forest. Having traveled alone, there was no one to help him when he fell into a great pit, and no one to send for help when, already bruised and battered, he was bitten by a terrible snake. Thus did Death finally arrive, ready to usher the poor fellow to Czernobog's obsidian domain. But the traveler, being a young man with many years still ahead of him pleaded for Death to spare him. Feeling generous, Death produced his chess set, each piece carved from bone, the black pieces painted with the essence of heathen souls. Death challenged the young man to a game: should the young traveler win, he would continue his journey in good health, living out the rest of his days in peace. If Death should win, though, the young man would become his apprentice, doomed to walk the planes between life and death eternally, a witness to the end of every life for the rest of time. Thus commenced the game. Death was crafty, with a keen mind and a cruel strategy, but the Young Man was no stranger to the sport. After nervous hours of labored strategy, the young man proved the victor. He found himself suddenly out of the perilous forest, his wounds healed and his body free of the snake's poison. But when he arrived home, upon emptying his satchel, he found Death's Chess Set amongst his other items. He lived to a ripe old age and died in his sleep, and his eldest son claimed the Chess Set as part of his inheritance. Knowing the story behind it, he dared not to use it for many years. But over time, he found himself oddly drawn to the board, its crude pieces, and the eldritch whispers he swore he heard emanating from it... They say that the Traveler's son walked into a tavern one night, Chess Set in hand and challenged a wayfaring stranger to a game. And that was the last anyone had seen or heard of him. The exact whereabouts of the Chess Set's current location and owner are unknown, but the novice adventurer would be wise to think twice about a challenge to a friendly game if it come from a wayfaring stranger...

Attributes:

The rules are very simple, but they must be followed strictly, lest you face dire consequences. Should the current owner of the chess set challenge someone to a game (for you must challenge someone eventually, despite your best efforts to fight the eldritch whispers) and lose, they will die instantly. The Chess Set then belongs to the challenged party. They will carry it until they too break under the strain of the whispers and challenge another to a game. If the current owner challenges someone to a game and wins however, they are free of the Chess Set's power. However, they are then given the dark task of finding an inheritor. Whoever they choose, whatever the reason, becomes the new owner. It is imperative that one never challenges another to a game or tries to keep the board after victory though. The game can only be played between the game's current owner and one who is newly challenged. To break this rule would incur the wrath of the underworld, from which there can be no rescue...

Red Cap's Red Cap

Red Cap's Red Cap

Along the misty borderlands, deep in rotted, forgotten towers and keeps there may dwell a fierce and twisted variety of goblin known as a Red Cap, called so because of the crimson coif atop their knobby heads. The Red Caps have a foul reputation, being considered a cut above their more common cousins by way of cunning, malice, and ruthlessness, and for this reason Johan's Rebellion has taken their name to instill fear into the hearts of its enemies. Should the neophyte adventurer find him/herself alone in the belly of an abandoned outpost and hear a raspy, whispered laugh or the dragging clang of chains or bone, they would do very well to fight the urge to run, for the Red Caps revel in a chase, and inundate their abodes with a variety of cruel traps and enchantments for just such a reason... However, should you ever best such a beast, I implore you, do not take his hat for a trophy. For I have heard dark tales of those who wore them, and for a time were rewarded great power, but at a terrible cost...

Attributes:

By itself, the cap has very minimal defensive qualities, but its true strength lies in its various enchantments. At first, the cap will only slightly increase the wearers strength and agility, but the effects of the cap grow stronger and more numerous as time wears on. Soon the wearer will find their senses more acute, especially in the dark. Their ears will gain a subtle point, and they may develop small knobs on the forehead. After a time, the wearer will find the sunlight no longer brings warmth or comfort, but rather it is a nuisance, blinding the eye and burning the skin. The wearer may become thinner, developing a pale yellow or green tint to their flesh, and though they desire only small morsels, they will hunger for fouler things such as rats or insects or even defeated foes, and desire to kill only so that they may re-dye their cap with a victims blood. Soon, sunlight will be unbearable, and even the most healthy and hardy adventurer will be reduced to a thin, sickly wretch. The ears will have become much longer and pointed, and the knobs will have developed into small horns. All in all, in but a months time of wearing the cap, the adventurer will become a Red Cap themselves...

Stats:

AC: +1
Day 1: +1 Atk, +1 Dmg; +2 DEX check
Day 5: +2 Atk, +2 Dmg; +3 DEX check; +2 Listen Check; +2 Detect Traps
Day 10: +3 Atk, +3 Dmg; +4 DEX check; +3 Listen Check; +3 Detect Traps; Ears start to point; Fore Head gains knobs; Dark Vision
Day 15: +4 Atk, +4 Dmg; +5 DEX check; +4 Listen Check; +4 Detect Traps; -1 to Atk, Dmg, and all Checks in Sunlight; Skin becomes pale yellow/green
Day 20: +5 Atk, +5 Dmg; +6 DEX Check; +5 Listen Check; +5 Detect Traps; -2 to Atk, Dmg, and all Checks in Sunlight; Charisma Check after defeating an enemy to avoid eating them, with -2 penalty; Charisma Check every turn to avoid attacking allies instead of foes, with -2 penalty; Finger nails become claws, dealing 1d4 dmg
Day 25: +6 Atk, +6 Dmg; +7 DEX Check; +6 Listen Check; +6 Detect Traps; -3 to Atk, Dmg, and all Checks in Sunlight; 1d4 damage for every hour spent in sunlight; Charisma Checks against feasting on foes and attacking allies receive penalty of -4; Ears become longer and fully pointed, forehead knobs become small horns; gains sickly, hunch-backed appearance; Aura of Chaotic Evil despite initial alignment

Perūn's Golden Apples

Perūn's Golden Apples

Though Perūn worship may be relatively new to Gray Realm, there are several shrines to the old Thunder King dotting the highlands, and it is here that his Golden Apples are grown. Though gardening may seem a strange practice for the priests and clerics of a warrior deity to the uninitiated, any Bard worth his Lute Strings knows that in these parts the Golden Apple is a symbol of destruction, especially of an apocalyptic variety. Those carried by Perūn himself are said to be so powerful that with a toss in the air they would call down a wrathful maelstrom that would burn the world over, but the variety grown in the shrines is a mere fraction of this power, a gift from the Master to his Servants to protect them from danger. Apples are given to Clerics and Paladins upon completion of their studies and training, and before they leave the shrine to travel the land. The apples are considered a most precious boon and a symbol of dignity and honor amongst worshippers, and therefore the price for stealing an apple is death...

Attributes:

Despite their simple appearance, the apples are capable of a myriad of fantastic actions. Simply traveling with the apple on one's person is quite beneficial in and of itself, as the apples are said to protect their holder from bad luck, fell magicks, and (of course) damage from lightening. Also if the apple is thrown high into the air, it will summon a mighty lightning bolt to strike the throwers enemies asunder. However, the apple will be lost in the process, as Perūn will accept the apple as a sacrifice or offering. Eating the apple will heal its consumer of all ills and even bolster their strength on the field of battle, but those that eat them should take special care to save the seeds. For, if planted, a tree will grow from the spot over night, granting many beneficial wards to those under its branches. The tree will sprout leaves of a lovely orange ochre, but it takes certain magical and botanical knowledge to cultivate more of the enchanted apples.

Stats:

Wards: when held the apple grants its holder +2 to WIS checks against arcane and illusory spells. It also halves damage from lightning or lightning based magic, and grants the holder a natural +1 to AC. These effects dissipate after the holder consumes or throws the Apple.

Consumption: eating a Golden Apple heals the consumer for 1d8+2 health points, cures them of all diseases and poisons, and grants them +2 to attack and to damage for 1d4+CHA bonus rounds

Lightning: throwing a Golden Apple into the air will call down a lightning strike that acts as Chain Lightening, wherein the bolt will strike a primary target dealing 1d6xCaster's Level damage, and will then arc to strike as many secondary targets within fifty feet as the Caster's Level for half of the damage dealt to the primary target

Divine Tree/Circle of Protection: in 24 hours of planting the seeds of a Golden Apple, a mighty tree will grow from the spot standing thirty to forty feet, with branches extending forty feet from its trunk. All party members standing under the tree's shade (ie within a twenty foot radius from the trunk) will receive the same wards that holding an apple would grant, along with casting Bless (+1 to hit, +1 against Fear) and will heal the party for 1d4+1 health points every three combat rounds. Creatures and opponents of any evil alignment cannot enter the circle, though they are still capable of firing arrows and long range spells within the ring. If the spell Unhallow is cast on the tree it's leaves will become dark purple or black and all wards and beneficial spells will be inverted, but the tree will whither and die after twenty four hours unless hallowed again within that time.

Lambton's Spiked Armour

Lambton's Spiked Armour

The famous armament was used by John Lambton, a lay about-turned-adventurer who slew what would come to be known as the Lambton Worm: a fell serpent that spread death and affliction where 'ere it slithered. Upon his death, the armour was put on display and anointed with holy waters at a local parish where it remained for many years as a reminder of the hero. Unfortunately the armour was stolen by a goblin band for reasons still unknown, and thus did the friars who tended it swear to one day find and retrieve it. Although the armour remains missing after more than a century, there are still rumors of robed, bearded men traveling the land inquiring of every lonely traveler of the hallowed suit of spikes...

Attributes:

While the armour boasts only moderate defense, it makes up for this with its other unique qualities, chief among them being it's spikes. The spikes are placed in such a way that they would counter the Lambton Worm's ability to coil and constrict, and as such they make for  fierce, if small, weapons. Also, as a result of the anointment of the armour with holy waters, the spikes and armour itself have become imbued with a hallowed energy such that damage from the spikes is especially potent against foes that are evil or undead, and the wearer will find that the armour allows them curative abilities concerning poison. Furthermore, in the heat of battle the serpentine patterns on the armour's chest may glow a ghostly blue, possibly as a sign of it's former master's lingering warrior spirit.

Stats:

AC: +5

Spikes: 1d4 damage; +1 to undead/evil

Cure Poison: once/day for magic users; once/week for non-magic users

Weight: 45lbs

EV: 3 (w)