Crown of cats

This crown allows the wearer to summon every normal non-magical cat within level x 100 yards/metres. Familiars, awakened cats and other beings of a feline nature feel the summons, but aren't compelled to obey it. The cats take 10 - 1D4 minutes to all arrive.

It also allows the cats to understand the wearer's instructions. Roll a D6 either for individuals or the group:

1 - 3: The cats, having seen what all the fuss was about, wander off.
4 - 5: The cats watch the summoner with interest, but make no move to obey. Eventually they get bored and wander off as well.
6: The cats obey the received instructions provided they aren't dangerous, tedious, undignified or too much work.

If the crowd of cats number more than six, assume that at least one is co-operative at first.

+1 to the outcome if the orders are something a cat is inclined to do anyway, like chase a prey creature, bat something around the floor, or knock something off a high place.

+1 if the summoner is in favour with the local cats - generous with titbits and scritchies and space in front of their hearth.

For the benefit of the table, the player using this item should be encouraged to roleplay their attempts to persuade a crowd of cats to do anything at all useful*.

Crown of cats

Usage: All characters
Charge: 1D10 charges
Appearance: A circlet of braided leather studded with white opals. At the front are a topaz and an aquamarine.

* a cat 'assisted' in the writing of this post.

Magic item: Forston's Excellent Terranautical Sailboat

Forston always enjoyed the romance of the sea in books and songs. It called to him in his dreams. Sometimes he woke thinking he could hear gulls. But the actual sea made him so sick he couldn't memorise spells. What's a wizard to do? Craft a boat capable of sailing on land, of course.

The sailboat is a small vessel, comfortably seating four or squeezing six. It has a single sail and a tiller at the back. One person can operate it. For movement, it treats land like water. It's the same for anyone touching the boat, as long as the contact is palm-sized or larger. You can even splash it, although it resumes its proper shape afterwards. Oars work.

All the magic is in the keel. You could remove it and fit it to another boat, so long as it would take a similar-sized keel. Too large and the magic won't trigger.

Using the boat

Level ground is like calm water. The boat moves at about 9/10 of the wind's speed. You can tack against the wind at about 1/3 speed. Broken ground is like choppy water. Features like trees are like sudden swells. The boat will go over them, but it's a strain on the timber. And the magic does nothing to keep passengers or goods inside. Forests or cities are like storms, packed with up/down inclines. You can tack against gravity and sail up a vertical surface. Once again, it's hard on passengers.

Forston only sailed his boat once. He passed over an unexpected ditch and lost his seat. He sank into the turf while gripping the sail line, but lost it - and the earth solidified around him. He was never found.

Usage: all characters.

Charges: permanent.

Appearance: a mahogany keel banded in copper and carved with runes.

The eye-mine of Dhurmak

The dwarven settlers at the holding of Dhurmak came to mine the copper veins. They made a modest living that way for years. An undistinguished minor clan with a small but tidy hall in the hills. But once they dug down underneath the ore, they found a surprise.There was worked stone down there. Crushed, as though the hill had shifted and sagged above it. And there were already-cut gems scattered in generous piles throughout the wreckage. 

Each was a green or yellow crystal, cut with facets by an expert. And each gem's centre was a flaw that resembled the slit-eye of a hunting beast.

Not being fools, the clan leaders had the gems examined by sages before allowing anyone to touch them. The scholars confirmed there was magic on them but it was old, weak magic. Made to hold something fast. That made perfect sense to the dwarves. They understood the difficulty of cutting flawed crystal without cracking it.

They stopped mining for copper and started mining for gems instead. Stones with eye-shaped flaws became fashionable. For a while Dhurmak enjoyed a brisk trade.

Disaster fell the first time they entombed one of their own with his jewellery on him. Left alone in the dark with a corpse, the gem liquefied. It spread over the body, dissolved the flesh and draped itself over the bones. Like a slime with an internal skeleton and an eye swimming at its forehead.

It spent half of that first night oozing between the debris sorting room and the mausoleum. Dropping eye-gems into the other coffins. Soon there was a squad of slime-skeletons. They quietly took over the hold entrances and the mine, converting living dwarves as they went. When traders arrived in the morning, they found it sealed tight. Dhurmak had been the victim of a silent invasion.

Now the dwarves are slaves. Driven by the slime skeletons to dig faster, uncovering more and more eye-gems. There are more gems than dwarves. So far, they've been content to share skeletons between them. Each skeleton has three to seven eyes, and a thicker layer of ooze as the number goes up. They've said nothing about their plans, giving orders and threats using hand-signals. Even so, the dwarves know that they live until they dig the last of the eye-gems from the underground ruin, and not a day longer.

AC 7 [12], HD 1 (4hp), Att 1 x slam (1d8) or acid (see special), THAC0 19 [0], MV 60' (20'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (1), ML 8, AL Chaotic, XP (see special), NA 0 (3d4), TT -

Specials:
Acid: 1d8 damage + 1d4 per round until victim makes an appropriate save.
Immunity: Unharmed by piercing attacks. Half damage from bludgeoning, heat, cold. Broken bones halve movement speed, but don't affect the use of limbs.
Eye level: For each additional eye, the creature improves AC and THAC0 by 1 and gains 1 HD. It loses 5' from movement speed.

Eyes	XP
1	16
2	30
3	65
4	175
5	325
6	775
7	1250

The rituals of the goddess of secrets

In the covert hours of the night, cut a branch from a tree you don't own. Saw a plank from that branch. Carve an empty circle on one side and an owl sigil on the other. Whisper a secret to it that you've never told anyone. Congratulations. Any table you place that board on is now an altar consecrated to the goddess of secrets.

Everyone has secrets they want to keep. You'd think the goddess of secrets would receive more worship. Truth is, not many people know about her. Those that do refer to her as 'our patroness' or 'our gracious lady' because they don't know her name. Most of them are thieves or assassins.

You can talk about anything at that altar. At the discussion's end, announce 'we dedicate these secrets to our lady' and let a drop of honey fall on your tongue. Spill the final drop on the carved board. Now no-one present can talk about what they've heard unless they're back together at an altar. Your voice will fail if you try. Sign language works, but she still might break your fingers for trying.

This is a obviously a tremendous boon to people who need to talk about their plans in private. It's good to know your partners can't spill the beans, even under torture. The lady might help them out there, by filling their mouths with acid or tearing their tongues in half to the root. She's serious about secrets.

But there's a price. The lady chooses one of the people at the altar to perform a task as her champion. It's usually an act of theft or violence. To keep something from coming to light, or shut a mouth forever. She sends her orders in dreams. Which are crystal-clear on the goal you've been set, but short on details like obstacles you might face. It's her nature to send you off, not unprepared exactly, but trusting you to work out the details on your own.

As you might expect, the penalties for telling anyone about this work are horrible.

If you succeed at several of these little tasks, there's a chance she'll select you for a great privilege. You'll become her priest. (No, you can't decline.) Then your job will be to move far away from everything you've ever known and found an organisation in her honour. A thieves guild or assassins lodge.

No need to tell the junior members why their order exists.

Chess set bestiary

A bestiary of creatures resembling slightly larger than man-size chess pieces. As always, a wizard did it.

The first generation of these beasts probably started their lives as farm animals. The unknown wizard warped them to resemble the pieces of a chess set. Perhaps as living decoration for some noble's lawn.

Now they run wild, nesting wherever they find croquet hoops, topiaries and lawn furniture. Not much of a threat to the seasoned adventurer, but commoners would be well advised to let professionals handle them. 

These creatures are hard to hurt, but don't do much damage individually.

Pawn

Pawns are the juvenile form of the chesspiece. They only grow as high as a human's eyes. As they get older they take the form of whatever piece is missing from the set. If the set is complete, they stay small and immature.

AC 4 [15], HD 2 (9 HP), ATT 1 x peck (1d4), THAC0 18 [+1], MV 120' (40'), SV D14 W15 P16 B17 S18 (NH), ML 8 (10 in pack), AL Neutral, XP 20, NA 1d3 (2d4), TT none

Rook

When surprised, threatened, angry, or even just bored, the rook will lower its battlements and charge. It prefers to charge enemies, but any moving thing will do.

AC 4 [15], HD 2+2 (11 HP), ATT 1 x butt (1d4), THAC0 17 [+2], MV 120' (40'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (1), ML 10, AL Neutral, XP 25, NA 1d2 (2), TT none

Knight

Knights are the fastest of the chesspieces, but once they start a charge they can't easily stop it. If they need to, they'll attempt to leap an enemy and circle for another attack. They use their hooves as weapons.

AC 4 [15], HD 3 (13 HP), ATT 1 x trample (1d4), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 240' (80'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (2), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 35, NA 1d2 (2), TT none

Bishop

Bishops scuttle around on crab-like legs, approaching a target obliquely. They attack with giant pincers, normally kept hidden under their robes.

AC 4 [15], HD 3 (13 HP), ATT 1 x snip (1d4), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 120' (40'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (3), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 35, NA 1d2 (2), TT none

Queen

The most agile piece. The queen has six strong legs under her skirt, with gripping talons like an eagle's. She can run, jump and corner with grace. She also has a natural sceptre attack.

AC 4 [15], HD 3+3 (16 HP), ATT 1 x talons (1d4) or sceptre (1d6), THAC0 16 [+3], MV 180' (60'), SV D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (3), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 50, NA 1 (1), TT none

King

The King can mimic speech like a parrot. He'll often repeat phrases he's been taught, like "reinforce the archers", "send the pikemen forward" and "at them, men!" In a fight, his movements are slow and ponderous.

AC 4 [15], HD 4 (18 HP), ATT 1 x shove (-), THAC0 15 [+4], MV 60' (20'), SV D10 W11 P12 B13 S14 (4), ML 8, AL Neutral, XP 75, NA 1 (1), TT none

Herds of chesspieces appear in either black, white or red plumage. Their preferred targets are pieces of different colours. Even so, they're prepared to attack anything vaguely threatening they come across in their territory,

The why of inns

This inn is (1d6):

1. a tidy building at a crossroads
2. a rundown building on a trade road
3. a rebuilt ruin at a river crossing
4. the remains of a demolished larger building on the outskirts of a city
5. a grounded boat
6. a rich man's house, now converted to trade
   

with (1d6):

1. a decorative weather vane.
2. a brightly painted sign.
3. a fresh coat of whitewash.
4. a mildly scandalous name.
5. an outside fire pit and roasting spit.
6. a crane for loading and unloading carts.
   

Outside there is (1d6):

1. a farrier working in the courtyard.
2. a barber-surgeon using a shed as a surgery.
3. a wheelwright repairing carts.
4. a carpenter making barrels.
5. a blacksmith repairing a horse harness.
6. a group of tiny stalls selling to passers-by.
   

 The proprietor is (1d6):

1. an ex-soldier who bought the place with his pension.
2. a no-nonsense alewife from a brewing family.
3. a young gambler, well out of their depth, who won the inn in a card game.
4. a fat and bustling cook.
5. a dour man who says little.
6. a cheerful gossip, who sells rumours to law enforcement.
   

It offers (1d6):

1. ale flavoured with local herbs*
   
2. strong beer brought by cart from a township miles away
3. dark beer from a nearby monastery
4. spirits brought by sea
5. wine, sort of
6. an alcoholic concoction of the owner's, which locals seem to like
   

and (1d6):

1. a stew of nameless meat, with black bread.
2. mutton stew with brown bread. 
3. pickled pork with bread and cheese.
4. a selection of pies with dried fruit for dessert.
5. grilled river fish.
6. barley soup with cabbage. So much cabbage.
   

Entertainment is provided by (1d6):

1. a girl who sings folk songs.
2. a bard who plays lute.
3. an old man who can whistle any tune.
4. a juggler.
5. an arm-wrestling contest.
6. a skittles game in the courtyard.

Tired customers can (1d6):

1. sleep under their cloaks near the common room fire.
2. pay for a straw pallet in a sleeping hall.
3. pay for a cot in a dormitory.
4. pay for a bed in a shared room.
5. pay for a good bed in a shared room with a few amenities.
   
6. hire a private room with its own fireplace and a maid to empty the chamber pot.**
   

An unusual feature is (1d6):

1. a high stockade wall, in good repair
2. boards across windows facing the sunrise
3. an obscure holy symbol over the door
4. a cellar bigger than the building
   
5. a bricked up room
6. 'decorative' weapons mounted on every wall
   

and an unusual quality is (1d6):

1. a ghost. It wails in the common room at midnight. 
2. a writ from the local lord. It empowers the proprietor to keep customers inside after dark on the night of the new moon.
3. a forest spirit who comes in for a drink every summer solstice.
4. a fireplace that won't light unless everyone present asks it to. Politely.
5. the rent. The proprietor leaves a beer barrel in a nearby stand of trees once a month. It's empty by morning.
6. that several times each year, a party of riders leaves with one riderless horse. No-one seems to notice.

Click here to randomly generate: 

(Thanks to Spwack of the Slight Adjustments blog for the generator code.)

* Modern beers are usually flavoured with hops. Earlier beers were flavoured with whatever the brewer thought would make a good addition.

** Beds in medieval times were a Big Deal. If you had one, it meant you could afford the material and labour for someone to build and decorate one for you. In fact, if you had one, it was probably on display where guests could see it. Not something you slept in! Want realism in your game? Shorten this list to "you share a pile of straw and a blanket with two strangers. Make a saving roll vs fleas."

The why of noble families

A set of tables for figuring out the local rulers and what their deal is.

These nobles are (1d6):

1. the last scions of a fading dynasty.
2. a small and tight-knit crew.
3. an extended clan of half-siblings, cousins and adoptees.
4. multiple branches at odds over the family money and land.
5. an obscure distant cousin and blood relatives who inherited from the main line.
6. a recently-elevated fighter & family, trying to act respectable.

Their family head is (1d6):

1. a stolid warrior, experienced in war and administration.
2. a second son who inherited when his brother died. Possibly mad.
3. a disciplinarian grandmother who rules her descendants with an iron fist.
4. a scheming uncle, always looking for ways to increase his family's fortunes, and therefore, his.
5. a weak-willed figurehead with a cunning spouse whispering evil plans to them.
6. a brash and impatient hunter who prefers entertainment over business.
   

Their realm is mostly (1d6):

1. farmland.
2. riverland.
3. forest. 
4. rocky.
5. marshy.
   
6. mixed (roll twice).

It sometimes suffers from (1d6):

1. drought.
2. flooding.
3. heatwaves.
4. freezing winters.
5. crop blight.
6. plague.
   

Their income is from (1d6):

1. collecting rent.
2. investment and moneylending.
3. mining on family land.
4. timber and sawyering.
5. charging tolls on a trade route.
6. sources they don't talk about.

A notable family accomplishment is (1d6):

1. victory in a historic battle.
2. victory in an honour duel.
3. ridding the district of a dangerous monster.
4. cultivating a new wine grape.
5. pacifying a warlike people.
6. draining a swamp to create arable land.

A family misfortune is (1d6):

1. madness in the bloodline.
2. no suitable heirs.
   
3. a rivalry with another noble family.
   
4. a debt to a supernatural creature.
5. declining finances.
6. a generational curse.

An advantage they have is (1d6):

1. an alliance by marriage to a more powerful family.
2. a sturdy and well-provisioned keep.
3. a busy trade route through their land.
4. a local religion which venerates their ancestors.
5. a powerful knight sworn to them.
6. a wise and loyal advisor.
   

Their current biggest problem is (1d6):

1. unrest among the peasants.
2. evil cults gaining a foothold in their territory.
3. monsters killing people at night.
4. banditry.
5. a dismal prophecy.
6. omens and portents.
   

In their lands, adventurers are (1d6):

1. expelled.
2. barely tolerated.
3. watched, but allowed to work.
   
4. ignored for the most part.
5. encouraged.
6. celebrated.

Click here to randomly generate:

(Thanks to Spwack of the Slight Adjustments blog for the generator code.)