Tutelage of the Spider God

All hail the wise Arak-Naka! The Weaver, The Spider Father, The Storyteller! Who lairs in the Caves of Small Favours at the heart of the Tertiary Sub-Realm! Ia!

Yes, I am yet again making more magic schools based on the super-fine Wonder & Wickedness (and here). I will eventually cover every peculiar magic source from my campaign, but today we're here, talking about spiders.

Originally this was a small encounter in Dwimmermount that spiralled off into strange and awful places. "The demon will offer anything for the party to spare its life". How about taking our wizard and making her your spidery disciple? Of course. Praise Arak-Naka and his fabulous new follower!








SPELLS

1
Summon Spider

1. Spawn of Arak-Naka AKA "Booby Spider"
   About the size of a man's hand. In place of a head and thorax it has a woman's head set back at an angle, as though laughing at the sky. It would be a pretty face if not for the madly rolling eyes and constant whispering of secrets. At its belly you find an array of withered teats from which its young may feed. Do not drink their milk.
2. Tall spider
   Little more than a black blot and hugely long and spindly legs. Though as tall as a cat it is ineffective in a fight since it is fragile. Merely touching it could snap one of its wispy legs.
   
   The tall spider can, if not squashed, clamber onto a victim and deposit its eggs beneath the skin. It will at this point die, turning brittle and twig-like, easily brushed away. In d6 turns they will start to hatch. A demonic birth, it doesn't abide by your pety logic, and the spiders (mundane, house varieties) will emerge from every possible opening. Mouth, ears, eyes.
3. Hoard of spiders
   Small poisonous spiders form roiling mass. They will bite and poison and generally be entirely unpleasant.
4. Noticeable huge spider
   A spider the size of a Labrador. Stubby legs and enormous fangs. Luckily, it isn't venomous. Unluckily, its fangs are 8 inches long.
5. Sourbroth Spider
   A single, tiny, yellow spider. Smaller than a pin head, but with a bite that should be feared. It sinks its tiny fangs into flesh, at which point it opens a minuscule gate to the sub-realms and channels its spurious powers. This effort kills the spider, but its effects are most impressive.
   
   Anyone bitten by the creature must save vs. death or have their insides dissolve and erupt from their orifices like a rudely squeezed raw sausage. A moral save would also probably be in order. Successful save causes 1d6 damage and a nasty rash.
6. You open a funnel to the sub-realms. Keep rolling until you get another 6. Only the first summons obeys you, though they will not harm you. Your friends however? Eh.

1-5 - They quietly leave when the time is up

6 - They stay as a permanent pet, until killed

2
Demonic Excretion
Exude a thick mucous, can be excreted to form a web effect, or to climb walls, or just be really gross. The quantity is controllable, where it comes from is not. So, it oozes from your hands, your face, your feet, your bum. Everywhere.

You can chuck it, you can smear it, you can eat it. But you shouldn't.

3
Speak with Spider
Always works. If there isn't a spider in the vicinity, there is now. It will speak with you as though you were its dark master, Arak-Naka, which is to say it will exchange secrets in a tense transaction. If you ever drop this ruse it will be hostile, or at least rude. Spiders know many secrets and love to tell them.

4
Spider Babies
Small spiders come to you and cover you in a sack of silk. They drain you of all your juicy juices and scamper off, leaving behind a soggy sack of skin and bones.

You emerge from a huge spider nest D6 days later, naked, stuck to a roof beam in a barn, in the boughs of a tree, in a quiet corner of an alley and so on.

5
Steal Stories
Distil raw memories from the targets mind. They form like glass globes at the targets forehead and float erratically to the sorcerers outstretched hand.

Save to resist. Failed save results in the subject losing a random memory which can be viewed in the orb. Spiders love these orbs, as does Arak-Naka.

1. They forget a person, utterly
2. They forget a detail about themselves, such as their name or job
3. They forget a period of time (1-5 it's negligible, 6 they lose d10 years)
4. They forget one specific fact
5. They forget what's going on right now, leaving them bewildered.
6. They forget a really useful fact or memory. GM chooses, based on what the players want/need

6
Chaos for the Fly
Induce hallucinations in others. Bring their memories to the surface so that they take form and confound them.

Save or suffer the affects.

1. Grief-struck. Paralysed, staring into the distance
2. Terrified and flees
3. Angered. Flies into homicidal rage
4. Happy. Babbles in a dreamlike state at long lost friends
5. Totally banal. A weak memory, doesn't fo anything other than distract them slightly (-1 to things)
6. The shock is too much. Save or take 1d8 damage from a heart attack or similar nervous outburt. Roll again.

7
Venom
You produce venom from your mouth parts. This can be spat or injected via bite, and so on.

If you spit it in their face, they must save of be blinded as it melts their eyeballs. Successful saves mean they are blinded for 1 round.

If you bite them they must save or suffer d6 damage per round, (in addition to you having just bit them, you madman). Lasts 1 round per level. If they die to it, please see Sourbroth Spider for the general effects. Morale saves all round.

If you get creative with it the venom lasts for 1 turn per level outside of your body, if stored in an air tight container. Otherwise, 1 round per level.

8
Whisper story
Spiders know every story. They don't just collect the best ones, but every story, they value them greatly and whisper them to Arak-Naka before they sleep.

You can communicate directly with Arak-Naka with this spell. In exchange for stories he will tell you a Truth. A small truth. A yes or a no, perhaps. The sorcerer must whisper his question and lose a small memory to the Weaver. This takes the form of either D4x100xp or something more appropriate and campaign specific. Possibly they exchange the memory of their husband? Maybe a great loss? Maybe someone else's memory in convenient orbicular form.




CATASTROPHES


1
Spiders live on you. They nest in your pockets, scamper from your sleeves and live in your hat. Others will occasionally get bitten or otherwise bothered by them.

2
Thick wiry hairs grow out of you in very obvious and unpleasant ways. Face, armpits, etc.

3
You grow a fetching set of mandible. You can no longer eat solids and must instead mush food into your face in a very undignified manner.

4
Contract a gradual transformation like The Fly (but, you know, The Spider). Bits fall off and are replaced with spider bits. Watch The Fly, do that to your players.

5
You constantly drool thick goo that dries into crusty webbing.

6
Open a permanent funnel to the realm of Arak-Naka as its legions (of spiders) pour forth.

7
Local spiders become sapient and conspire against the populace. Constant whispering in the crawl spaces drive people to panic.

8
Your memories pour over the edge. If you move too suddenly they pour out of you in a thick grey sludge. From your eyes and nose mostly. Save vs. device when suddenly jostled or else they start pouring out and you take d3 turns to gather yourself and stop the flow. If you don't eat up the sludge off the floor you loose d4x100xp

9
Spider migration. All arachnids within several miles come to this spot. Coat everything in webs, economy shuts down, famine, etc.

10
A senior spider demon appears. It might be helpful, it probably isn't. It will most likely be nosy, inconsistent and rude. Its objective is to spread the dominion of Arak-Naka which entails lots and lots of spiders, possibly changing the economy into a story-based rather than silver-based one.

11
The sorcerer is pulled through a 5th dimensional hole by giant spider to feed Arak-Naka. Tough titties.

12
Spiders wrap you in a silk bed at night. They revere you, you are a Disney Princess of spiders. Other people do not find this endearing.

Lost Pages and Cunning Men

I recently received the latest offerings hot off the press over at Lost Pages, and they are as marvellous as ever. I've been carrying Wonder & Wickedness (by one Mr. Strejcek) around like a toddler with a blanket ever since it arrived. Now, I could review it, OR I could rip it off in an act of the most sincere  flattery. Yea, I think I'll do that.

(as seen in longer form in The Undercroft #3)
THE CUNNING MEN OF THE FERN COURT

Folk tales are the leavings of an irrational mind, a black pearl formed around an ill-sitting grain of truth. It is passed around the fire, each hand polishing it more so they can better see the fear on their own faces. But the grain remains and some are not so distracted by the black mirror, intent on staring deeper.

Their arrival wasn't planned. First one, then another, drawn by dreams of a dark sun rising above the primordial canopy of the Fern Court. They didn't know what it was or what would happen when it rose, but they were compelled to find answers. The forest speaks to those with an ear for it, but it talks in omen and subtle metaphor, a growing knot that the cunning can unravel. And they were cunning. They, the kindly ones, the painted folk, the cunning men.

The Fern Court is old, the woods are deep, thick and storied. The villages found there hide behind palisades choked with rose vines, closing their ears to the scratching at the door. The homesteads and charcoal burners are far and wary, the pathways to their homes littered with charms and fetishes against the night. The people on its borders share stories of children being taken from their beds to dance under its boughs.

Indeed, those who call the forest home are isolated, paranoid and prone to eccentricity, but it is not the realm of death one is lead to believe. Merchants cross it, lords claim it, and the very story tellers decrying it lived to learn and continue their tellings.

The forest men  have long memories, and the cunning men loom large in them. A monolith of stability, as permanent and old as the forest, a coming and going as regular and inevitable as the seasons, roaming where their calloused feet take them. The woodsmen might not question the attention of so many magical practitioners but the cunning men do. Each of them was drawn to this place, haunted by dreams and omens until they found themselves beneath its rancorous branches. Now they spend their energies trying to understand why, what brought them here and what the black sun means.

Within the small and quiet world of the woodsmen the tattooed face of the cunning man is a good omen. They rove from settlement to settlement swapping news in exchange for food and shelter, sitting by hearths and hearing what news they have in turn, seeing their sick and blessing their children, and as the nights go on his questions will come. He will ask about the owls and the milk, about the patterns in the frost. Have they seen Baldanders? Did the sparrowhawk fly east at dawn? Did it return by night?

They will answer and he will leave, satisfied but burdened.

Their covenant is both newer and more organised than it would at first seem. Though they travel widely they always return to the seasonal moot to unload their weighted minds. Unusual amongst practitioners of the cunning arts, they share knowledge freely. Every scrap and clue is kept in the hopes of leading to answers, every detail tattooed on their flesh. Volumes are inscribed in their private script, in streaks and swirls the letters abound. In there is everything that they must know, both magical and mundane, it will be preserved and never stolen like other tradition's books of spells so easily lost or destroyed. They stand before their peers, sky clad, and allow an inspection of the season's happenings.

When one of their number dies they take great pains to retrieve and prepare them for one final moot. Their skin is dried and stretched, displayed on a rack for all to come and learn from before it is destroyed utterly.

Cunning Man illustration in issue #3 by Matthew Adams

Spells

1.
Babble

The caster whispers unintelligibly while staring intently at his target. While the muttering continues the fellow will be unable to get their words out, spluttering and becoming confused. Additionally the caster may force the target to say one thing, one single sentence.

This trick can be performed with subtlety, where onlookers would only see the caster muttering like one whose mind had withered roots.

2.
Spleenful led

The caster must have in their possession a fragment of the target: a strand of hair, seminal fluid, toenail, blood and such. With this, they must bind it in mud or clay and throw it as far as they can, out of sight. The target must save vs. magic or from then until the next morning be unable to find their way.

For that period they cannot reliably find their way anywhere without someone leading them forcefully. They will take wrong turns, leave the trail and generally wander aimlessly.

3.
Protection from rain

The caster is immune to the effects of turbulent weather. No rain nor hail will touch him, lightning will dance around him, the wind will die at his tread. But only him, mind. The elements have no strong feelings for his companions.

4.
Read entrails

The creature being used for this spell must be slaughtered especially for this purpose. Creatures stumbled upon or killed for utilitarian purposes are not suitable. For each HD of sacrifice the cunning man may find a vague detail of the answer to one question in the entrails. Hair colour, mannerisms, times, smells, directions, all delivered in as obscure a manner as possible.

5.
Pick up sticks

Some signs are not so subtle as to require a mind awash with magic; the woodsmen mistrust the owls and know to shutter their windows on the new moon. With the knowledge of how the forest connects meanings the caster throws a pocket full of twigs, bones, furs and feathers in the air. Those viewing must save vs. magic or fall to the ground obsessively picking up the assorted debris. Can effect 2HD of sentient targets per caster level.

6.
Zoanthropy

The cunning man must take off his clothes and arrange them neatly and deliberately in a hidden place. Naked, they must walk into the wilderness and with each step lose their mind and body until eventually taking the form of an animal. They may choose what animal to be, but it must be appropriate for the environment and they must try their hardest to imitate the creature or else the trees will notice and the spell will end.

While in animal form they cannot be found through magical means. They may maintain this form for as long as they like, but must save vs. magic every new moon or else lose their minds to the beast and stay that way forever. To return to their old ways they must find their clothes, whereupon they will be reformed.

Many cunning folk have lost their mind through the divine sublimation of the zoanthrope. They still search the forests for Old Father Aldous, whose skin was almost black with writing, who they say glimpsed the horizon of the black sun before he retreated into quietude. At every hamlet and homestead they always ask after sightings of the black hare.

7.
Brittle Twigs & Bird Song

The caster takes a dry twig and snaps it across his knee in full view of his foe. They must save vs. magic or take 1d8 damage and suffer the effects of a broken appendage (caster’s choice).

8.
Path of Guilt

The caster makes a poultice of thorns, rags and soil, with this they scrub the soles of the feet until they bleed freely (1d4 damage). While the blood flows they count as having 6 in 6 stealth and the evidence of their passing is invisible to the mundane eye. Once the bleeding stops the spell wears off and the bloody footprints appear for all to see.







Catastrophes

1. The sorcerer is always covered in moss and small insects. They scutter in and out of his clothes and beard. If he was to sit still for long enough he would eventually look like a rotten tree trunk.
   
   1 in 6 chance a rare and highly toxic hallucinatory mushroom grows in his armpit. He eats them constantly.
   
2. A flash of insight into the meaning of things! The sorcerer must immediately go to a certain place and do a certain thing. This thing will be seemingly mundane and meaningless, such as placing a sandal half way up a certain mountain, or standing under a certain waterfall while reciting the Strictures of Merrywell. If the party do not join him at the next free moment he will disappear on his own for 2d6 weeks and do it himself. 1 in 6 chance he never comes back.
   
3. The sorcerer is overwhelmed by implied meaning and endless connections. Before him is a vast conspiracy between the squirrels and the daffodils, they hide their nuts in the pattern of the constellation of the Bull and only remove his eye on Wednesdays, the oak leaves fall but spin only counter clockwise... They are paralysed with the truth and can only be forcibly lead around for 1d4 days. They may memorise twice the normal spells during this period, since the sideways logic comes more naturally.
    
4. For one random fellow close to this catastrophe the veil of lies is ripped and the black sun replaces our own. It will bleed, thick puss dripping down the sky. The trees will buckle, the walls will fester and boil and they will fall to their knees as their sanity leaves them in a boiling puddle of filth.
   
   Save vs. magic or die. If it dies, then the caster must save vs. magic or die as he sees the light in the burst flesh bag that got caught up in this mess. If he dies then everyone within sight of him must save or die. Closing your eyes won’t help, you won’t need eyes when the dark sun rises.
   
5. The cunning man learns that his life is linked to another in the vast web. This can be an object or place. His health and theirs is linked from this day on. Think like a Dryad and their tree, but potentially with a weasel, blueberry bush or toothbrush.
   
6. Caster loses their mind. Believe themselves to be an animal or tree. This lasts for 1d6 days, reroll 6's and add it to the total. Players may control the PC as long as they play along convincingly. Spellcasting ability is lost.
   
7. Rose vines burst out of the cunning man in a huge plasmic sneeze. Everyone within 20 metres of him must save vs. device or be impaled by the foliage for 1d6 damage. The plants are ferocious weeds and will continue to grow. Very pretty, but in a few weeks everything will be covered in spikey rose vines. The cunning man is unharmed, but must disentangle himself from the vines now growing out of him.
   
8. The cunning eye sees the purest empyreal fire, suffusing the darkness with a light so far from the prosaic rays that struggle through the canopy as to be an insult to name it as such. That beauty is seen by few but holds an indescribable fascination for those that have. A feeling beyond words or any other tawdry attempts at communication. It can only be shown.
   
   The caster will emanate light with no fixed point of origin while babbling incoherently. Anyone viewing the light must save vs. magic or grow uncontrollably as the light fills them. They will spontaneously sprout new limbs, their flesh will flow like a flood and they will grow exponentially until the light fades. Their flesh will remain forever malleable and readily absorb more. From here on they are considered horrifying monsters by all, and are very likely blind, deaf, and insane (2 in 3 chance of each).
   
   If you know to do so and are prepared, looking away will avoid this unpleasant fate. However, anyone caught in the area of an individual glutting on emyreal light will be absorbed into the target, dealing 1d10 damage per turn as they are melted into their loving embrace. If they are cut free they will suffer d6 permanent damage from missing flesh and skin.
   
9. The caster mutters constantly, with occasional outbursts. It resembles Tourettes, but instead of obscenities he blurts out cutting truths.
   
10. The recipient of this curse is dragged under the earth by thick roots, whereupon he is stored in a small encystment. He will not starve and cannot escape through normal means, though he can be dug up. Those recovering his encystment will find a sack of flesh, inside of which the poor fellow will be held.
    
    After a time a tree grows on the spot, the fruit of which will fall and split into animals of some local variety. They will speak of the trapped individual, but only to the young and the lonely. After 2d6 years the tree will split like a lily to reveal the sorcerous sufferer, naked and new.
    
11. The sorcerer casts off his clothes and equipment. His takes a sharp stick and ash and inscribes his magical knowledge into his flesh. This takes 1 day per level, during which he will refuse to be disturbed. He will never again wear clothes or bags of anything else that separates him from an intimate connection with the world. Can memorise 2 extra spells.
    
12. The cunning man can talk with animals and plants. However, they all talk like the Cheshire cat and bad lsd dreams. Constantly.

I keep making tables, send help.

To save my players some time I put together a very basic character roller, including the list of starting items I love so much.


Generate a guy.


The items have been written by me, stolen from Dungeon Dozen, stolen from other starting item lists, and generally stolen.



EDIT: Was brought to my attention that showing the table might be useful. Assume none of it's mine, if in doubt. The wonky sub-table was how I started adding past 100

100 Random item starter list for beginning characters.

1. Grandfather's broadsword, plain but quality. Engraved on it are the names of his dead comrades.
2. A locket containing a tiny portrait of your dear mother.
3. A scalped beard
4. d6 gold pieces stitched into your clothing.
5. A healing ointment of your mother’s, heals 2hp per application. Four applications.
6. A sock full copper bits (2d12).
7. A small, white and friendly kitten with glowing eyes. The kitten will follow the party everywhere; if it is killed, the next night there are two kittens.
8. A certificate for 168 GP if presented to the Gold Citadel.
9. A pair of well worn thumbscrews.
10. A rusted shut prayer book to Vorn.
11. Small tin of black lotus powder (d6 doses, the cheap knock-off variety that still gets you high but tends to kill repeat users)
12. A genuine treasure map (5% chance of being real).
13. Empiric phrasebook. Containing such common necessities as “You child of a long dead sow” and “Death to the Invincible Overlord!”.
14. Two men-at-arms. Father paid for six months service up front. Armed with Chainmail, shield, and spear.
15. There is small wrinkled conjoined twin somewhere on your body. It’s asleep most of time, but it has one peculiar power it can use once a day, if you wake it up and ask it nicely.
16. Cosmopolitan Cruin: henchman who knows one language unknown to adventurers.
17. A tunnel dog, loyal and well trained. A gift from "Uncle Guorgi".
18. At least half your body is covered in tattoos. These move and frolic about when no one is looking. THEY GUIDE YOU +2 wis.
19. Book of rare poetry. Prized by manticores.
20. Vial of unholy water.
21. A mechanical Goblin Key that'll lock any door.
22. A lucky Hand of Glory necklace (pickled hanged man’s hand on a rope)
23. Ancient cube of gold, quite encumbering, 50% chance of being lead with thinnest veneer of gold foil
24. Gems encased in blobs of lead for safe keeping (a troll practice).
25. Damage-proof scroll case carved of leviathan ivory.
26. Ornate ceramic vessel with cork stopper, decorated w/scenes considered quite erotic by certain folks, contains one gallon refined mineral oil, extra slippery.
27. Small leather bag with embroidered mushroom insignia: weird loam within produces a new super-nutritious fungal lobe each day if kept moist, stinks though.
28. Keepsake box containing set of pointy baby teeth dipped in bronze.
29. Musical instrument of shining brass, obviously designed to be played by creature with multiple mouths, scads of digits.
30. Giant-size coat of exquisite chinchilla-like fur, marred slightly by smear of indelible ink on massive sleeve.
31. An ivory dildo.
32. Hermetically sealed box containing chunk of rubbery troll flesh eager to remake itself once exposed to air.
33. Chest full of theatrical costumes.
34. Father's old round shield.
35. Corgo the Cognizant: able to remember important detail forgotten by adventurers. (Once per game)
36. A bundle of letters to be delivered.
37. Leprosy. You don’t feel much pain but are never sure when something has fallen off. +2 con but your HP is secret and the GM won’t tell you how injured you are until it’s too late.
38. The Tale of the Nymph and the Acolyte, bawdily illustrated.
39. Recipe for preparing a seven course meal using the components of a single monster (randomly determined) for all dishes.
40. A trolls hand mounted on a three foot rod. It will grasp objects, or make a fist. commands, grabit, leggo, fist. You found it in the Forrest gripping a tree branch.
41. A bestiary, allows the player to ask one question of the DM about any creature listed in the monster manual, fiend folio, or monster manual II, during the game.
42. Munn the torchbearer/unemployed cartographer.
43. A long stem pipe and bag of white lotus powder.
44. Ten or twelve sentences translated from your language into another random language, with phonetic spelling for the latter. "Surrender or die!" and "Where's the treasure?" top the list. 33% chance inaccurate.
45. Small vial of cerebrospinal fluid of the mind-bat: imparts random knowledge following short pleasurable coma. D3 uses.
46. Envelope of black mold spores: snorted for hours-long laughing jags, long term users identifiable by tell-tale nasal staining. D3 uses.
47. Jar of skin secretions of the blind cave frog: dilute with brandy for an interesting buzz. D6 uses.
48. Jar of pickled polychromatic fungi: mild hallucinogen, enables user to see in the dark. D3 uses.
49. A travel sewing kit. Compact but comprehensive.
50. A full face mask.
51. Keen-eyed Kruun: more likely than average to spot objects of value.
52. Wheel of gray cheese: overwhelms the pleasure centers for 10 minutes, then turns skin stone-gray and deadens emotions (cure: more gray cheese). 2D6 servings.
53. Halifam the Half-hobbled: enchanted peg-leg allows one spectacular jump (as spell) per day, d6 roll required (1-5 leap succeeds, 6 peg-leg falls off).
54. Bladder of War Juice(TM): tincture of white ape adrenal fluids and alcohol, induces battle frenzy/heart attack(5% chance).
55. Flaegra, priestess from exotic realm: on pilgrimage of self-nullification, taking on menial/dangerous tasks such as hauling treasure, carrying torches, under oath to never use considerable powers.
56. Spear-hole in both sides of neck, likes to smoke pipe for gruesome effect.
57. A tiny jar of glitternight dust: Strong hallucinogen, induces violent euphoria. Fortunately also a paralytic.
58. Syphilis. You don’t expect to live long enough to regret your heady youthfulness. -1 con +2 reflex rolls, won’t get past 50 without losing your mind.
59. Mighty Bleena: possibly the world's strongest woman, suffered series of concussions earlier in career (still refuses to wear helmet), becomes confused in battle, 50% likely to mistakenly hammer friendlies who get close to her in melee.
60. A pet snake.
61. Huroo the mentally deficient yet totally bold and confident torchbearer: loincloth, torches.
62. Cleem of the Pukarat people: two-handed sword, breechclout, a barbarian so ferociously savage and given to violence as to be a constant liability.
63. Unbelievable number of concealed daggers (5D3).
64. Packet of herbal virility enhancer.
65. Forty feet of steel wire on a spindle.
66. A bottle of mild sleeping tonic.
67. A pouch around your neck containing a wooden likeness of your parents.
68. An adorable piglet.
69. A fully furnished pack mule.
70. A really nice horse. Wow, what a handsome horse.
71. A wax paper packet of blue dye powder.
72. A pair of bear fur knee breeches.
73. An elinguated eunuch warrior slave. You monster.
74. Pot of analgesic body balm.
75. Branded with insignia of notorious slaver, still on the wanted list. 50% hand, 50% face.
76. A fine pair of trousers in your family’s tartan.
77. A small sundial on a necklace.
78. Frolees five page guide to moustaches and beards.
79. A six inch Crystal lens.
80. A small silver mirror.
81. Corrective spectacles.
82. A Ring of Luck, +1 on all saves, roll again on this list.
83. Closed helm featuring faceplate shaped as caricature of cherubic infant face.
84. A seven-fingered glove.
85. A golden false eye to replace the one you lost (randomly determine which eye is missing).
86. A copper tongue scraper.
87. Emergency escape razor stashed in wrist wrappings.
88. A bag of candied fruits.
89. Pint of noxious hill giant repellent in sealed sheep's bladder
90. A wand of eye poking. four charges. It will unerringly poke out the eye of target creature within arms reach. no roll needed.
91. An excellent wool scarf knitted by your grandmother. Bonuses to resist cold.
92. Unabridged History of the Slug Folk: 1000% more proper names than The Silmarillion, abundant w/tedious, highly repetitive minutiae of utterly pedestrian slug folk lives.
93. Illuminated scroll containing abridgement of Ahknatar the Inscrutable's classic Lethal Pitfalls of Situational Ethics
94. A live armadillo-like creature that clings tenaciously to your head, gives tactical advice, provides encouragement, sacrifices self to protect wearer from otherwise deadly blow.
95. A small bag of uncut semi-precious stones.
96. A dozen glow wasps in a round wire cage with handle. Equal to torch light at night. Require food and water daily.
97. Disguise kit w/ wigs, false moustaches/beard etc.
98. A collection of keys, hundreds of keys, of all shapes and sizes.
99. Thick ragged scar from top of head to left heel, doesn't want to talk about it.
100. Go to sub-table 1

Sub-table 1:

1. Big brother’s favourite floppy hat.
2. A large copper chamber pot.
3. An adventurous kid has decided to become your henchman.
4. Fake Fever Flixir; Induces flu-like symptoms for up to a week, depending on how much you drink.
5. A scroll tube containing the deed to the Riven Tower.