d100 Wondrous Items

Etching of a table cluttered with curiosities. A skull, a flower, scattered papers and open books, etc.

(Before we begin: Bones of Contention is a new TTRPG review site, for which I am a contributing member. Please give it a look!)

“Wondrous Items” is the category where D&D puts all the good magic items. At their best they demand creativity from the players who possess them in a way that a Flaming Sword or Ring of Protection never could. Wondrous Items didn’t make the leap to video games the way so many of D&D’s other trappings did, because Wondrous Items require a tactically infinite environment in order to thrive.

Here I have endeavored to present the greatest diversity of physical objects I could, marrying each to a magic power intended to push players to engage with the game in new ways.

The treasure chest contains a…

Knife which will expertly season any food prepared with it. Even a novice cook could significantly elevate the quality of their ingredients. The knife loses its enchantment permanently if it is ever used for violence.
Saddle which will resize itself to fit any natural beast it’s placed on. Once the saddle is strapped in place that creature will behave as a well-trained mount for one day. After this the saddle falls off not matter how well secured. Some animals may resent having been ridden, and turn claws and fang upon their fallen rider.
Book which records every conversation of the person who owns it. It does this no matter how far away its owner is. If a new person takes possession of the book (without having it explicitly lent to them by the owner), all its pages become blank
Dry log which burns, but is never consumed by fire. Its owner never needs to gather another piece of firewood again. This log was probably cut from some very special tree, and probably has some much more amazing properties to it, but this is the only remarkable thing anyone has ever discovered about it.
Battle standard which appears friendly to anyone who would recognize a battle standard. One could ride through two warring armies, and both forces would perceive them to be allies. If a person has no knowledge of flags or battle standards, it displays a gray-and-white checkered pattern.
Set of magically silenced woodworking tools in a nice box. Hand drills of various sizes, files, saws, planes, a mallet, none of which will ever make a sound when in use.
Winnowing basket which will sift objects according to any rules described to it. An excellent tool for finding needles in haystacks. For example, it might be told to sift a load of treasure for items worth more than 100 gp, after which any item worth less than that will fall right through the basket’s bottom regardless of its size. The imp bound to the basket cannot read, and refuses to learn, so any attempt to use scrabble tiles to turn the basket into a tedious oracle will not work.
Mirror of capricious deceptions. It will never reflect reality properly, though most of the time the differences it displays are slight enough that one must study the image carefully to determine what’s wrong. Perhaps a ring is shown on the wrong finger, or cheeks are displayed more flush than they are. This isn’t always the case. When one least expects it the mirror will show a demon looming behind them, or spiders crawling out of the viewer’s nose. If someone spends a good Turn or two polishing the mirror to make it look its best, they may whisper a request to it and it will reflect one lie of their choosing.
Pipe which, when lit and puffed on, produces great clouds of cloying, sight-obscuring smoke. If the pipe is loaded with any substance that carries a particular effect (hallucinogenics, poisons, narcotics, etc.) the cloud will also carry those effects, which must be Saved against by anyone in the vicinity. Note that the smoker is not immune, and must save along with everyone else.
Tripod which folds down to fill the smallest unit of encumbrance the game uses. When fully opened up it’s large and strong enough to support the weight of a standard adventuring party.
Bell of attention. For one moment after the bell is rung all eyes and ears will be focused on the ringer. It is up to them to be interesting enough to hold people’s attention after that first moment. If anyone hears the bell a second time within a single day, they will perceive that the ringer is attempting to control their minds with magic. People do not generally appreciate this, and will almost certainly turn violent towards the bell-bearer.
Directional magnet, of the U-shaped variety. The magnetic field it projects is tightly focused on a single point, and is powerful enough to attract any metal object its pointed towards with 2 horsepower.
Music box which suppresses all sound except the plink-plink-plink of its own music. A full wind lasts 3 minutes, after which it takes a few moments to wind up again. The silencing effect is exactly proportional to how well the music can be heard. Those near the box will hear absolutely nothing but the music, while those far enough away to hear the music only faintly will also experience all other sounds being slightly suppressed.
Tent which rolls up as small as a pup tent. However, when properly put up, the tent is spacious enough to stand in, with several semi-private rooms. Additionally, there is an extra flap at the back of the tent which leads to an extra-dimensional reference library. This library is used by a variety of magicians across the planes, and tended by a dangerous librarian. No object may be taken from the library, but anyone willing to spend time there ought to be able to find the knowledge they’re seeking.
Sponge capable of absorbing an abnormal amount of liquid. If thrown into a body of water it could soak up a good-sized lake. It never grows any larger or heavier no matter how much liquid it holds. A single squeeze will always release the whole volume at once.
Wand which allows the wielder to ‘save’ up to ten outfits. They simply must dress themselves a certain way, then wave the wand over themselves from head to foot to store that outfit in extra-dimensional space. By thinking of the outfit and waving the wand over themselves again—from foot to head this time—the clothes will be returned to their body. There is nothing to prevent the wand from being used to store worn treasures, though it must be noted that one cannot switch partially between outfits.
Scabbard which shapes itself to any weapon one wishes to put in it. When the wearer calls for their weapon, the scabbard will oblige by propelling the weapon out of itself. This is best used to instantaneously bring a weapon to hand, even if one is mid-grapple. One may also attempt to launch a weapon directly from the scabbard and towards an enemy, but this form of surprise attack is clumsy, and only rarely strikes successfully.
Ball about the size and density of an apple. It is perfectly accurate within the range of the thrower’s strength, hitting whatever they were aiming at no matter how small or mobile. The ball is unlikely to do any serious harm if used as a weapon.
Net with eight weights around its edge. Each weight has a button which causes it to stay exactly where it was when the button was pressed—even if that means levitating in mid-air. The magic which holds the weights is released if jostled. The net can thus be used to quickly set a simple snare in almost any environment.
Board game with a subtle magic. Everyone who sits down to play it will have a comfortable understanding of the rules, without ever needing to learn them. The play of the game is as simple or as deep as is appropriate to the temperament of the players; and as short or as lengthy as the time they have available to play. Any creature who can be convinced to play will have a nice time, and will remember the party pleasantly.
Key of Imaginary Transportation. When used to mime starting a car, the key enables the holder to also mime sitting down in a car, and driving at car-speeds. The magic lasts for as long as they continue to mime. It will instantly cease to work if they break character by speaking or taking action not possible with a car, or if they ram their imaginary car into something solid / try to take it where it could not reasonably go. If moving at speed, the sudden faltering of this magic can prove exceptionally dangerous. The imaginary car can carry a party’s worth of passengers and luggage.
Wood barrel which will find its way back to its owner (with all its contents) one week after being cast away. It must be truly cast away in order for the magic to work: thrown into an ocean or river, given to a stranger as they leave town for parts unknown, etc. So long as the owner cannot reasonably retrieve the barrel themselves, the barrel’s magic will work, and it will return.
Polished bronze torque which allows the wearer to lengthen or shorten their neck at will. Elongated necks are difficult to move with, but can coil like a snake, and even be climbed by allies. If the wearer is attacked, each additional foot of length their neck current has results in a 5% chance that a successful hit deals 5x its normal damage. (So for 1 extra foot, an attack roll of 20 deals 5x damage. For 2 extra feet it’s 19-20, for 3 extra feet 18-20, etc.)
Mummified cat’s paw. When placed on an object, the paw causes that object (and itself) to immediately become buried ten feet under ground. The buried items can only be retrieved by digging, which may take more or less effort depending on the material they were buried in.
Candle which will undo any harm that is done within the range of its light. The harm simply reverses itself when the candle naturally burns itself out as a stub. Note that the candle must be fully used up before its magic can take effect. If a person is killed in the candle’s light, but then the candle is snuffed out and not used up until 100 years later, then it will be 100 years before that person is revived. Candle burns for 4 hours.
Fish hook that works its magic when slipped into someone’s clothes. An ethereal tether extends between the hook and the person who placed it, so that they always know which direction to go to find the target. If pulled on, the tether will drag the hooked person with magic force along the most expedient path to the one who placed the hook. The magic is undone if the hook is discovered, or if the hooked person changes clothes.

Two etchings of a hand holding a peculiar writing tool. They demonstrate that it ought to be held with its base resting in the palm, and its point guided by the index finger.

Manacles of escaping. If a person goes to sleep while wearing them, they will awaken in a completely different situation. It will be some generally bad situation, such as rower on a slave galley, or prisoner in a foreign dungeon—but perhaps it is a better situation than the one which prompted the person to wear the manacles in the first place.
Feather duster with a wooden handle that has been carved into the figure of a gossipy maid. When the duster is used to brush a layer of dust, the wooden gossip will come to life and tell the whole history of the room since that dust settled here. They know exactly how long it has been since someone passed through, what sort of creature they were, what they did, etc.
Shears which imbue any hair they cut with magic properties. The person who holds a lock of hair cut by these shears is suffused with a subtle aura that makes it completely believable that they are best buds with the person whose hair they hold. Cut the hair of a king? Everyone you meet will believe you’re the king’s friend. The effect lasts until the person who’s hair was cut denies the relationship, after which that lock will never work on anyone again.
Large vermilion folding fan. If a creature or object’s shadow falls upon the fan’s folds while it is opened, then the fan may be snapped closed to fold that creature or object away in extra-dimensional space. Whatever is stored in the fan will be released again the moment it is opened, believing that no time has passed. There are no limits to the size of objects stored, save that their entire shadow must fit on the folds of the fan.
Gloves capable of magically producing cord of any commonly available type and thickness between them. It may be ropes, chains, fishing line, twine, etc. The cord can be attached to the gloves, or released from them, but will never be any longer than the width to which the wearer can stretch their arms.
Metal stud for wearing in a pierced tongue. While worn, the wearer gains a sticky frog’s tongue with 5 feet of reach.
Steel bucket which is able to produce twenty times the amount of sand, water, gravel, or any other useless material it is filled with.
Gardening trowel. If used to dig a shallow trench, and that trench is filled with water, the little furrow will expand to become a full-sized moat.
Vase which “melts” any metal placed into it down to a liquid state. If one then whispers a shape into the vase and pours the metal out, it will “cool” and form itself into the shape desired. One can form the metal into coins, or statues, or bricks, or balls. The process is quick and does not involve any heat.
Quill and ink-pot that imbue any words they write with supernatural comprehensibility. They can be read and understood even people people who do not read the language they are written in, people who are entirely illiterate, and even by creatures who lack language entirely. Even a mindless zombie or an alien slug could understand what is written.
Lockpicking tools which work on people’s hearts. If someone skilled in legerdemain is able to sneak up on an unconscious person, or do their work on a restrained person, they can use these tools to “open” the person’s heart, and place some new love inside of it.
False mustache cut from the lip of a great warrior who was cast out of his tribe, and ritually deprived of this symbol of his manhood. When it tied by straps to be worn on a person’s face, the mustache grants the ability to tell absolutely superb war stories.
Farming scythe. If passed backwards over some dead thing, that thing will very briefly be brought back to life. It may be a few minutes, or an hour, but they will shortly return to death.
Crowbar which is a magical force multiplier, in addition to being a mundane one. If an average person uses it, it will be as though 10 burly strongmen are all helping them. Note that this functions only when the crowbar is used as a lever, not if it’s used as a cudgel.
Bright clear crystal which cleans any room it’s left in. Nothing will happen while one watches, but leaving it alone for only a few moments will eliminate dust and detritus, put items back in their proper place, brighten paint, etc.
Folded fortune teller made of browned and tattered papyrus. If placed in a dead person’s hands, the hands will move to open and close the fortune teller. Back and forth, accelerating rapidly, until a choice is made, and an inky rune is revealed, taking immediate effect (d8): 1-3: Speak With Dead, 4: An illusory scene appears, depicting this dead creature’s final moments of life, and how they came to be where they are. 5. Raise the dead as a powerful undead revenant which loathes the living. 6. Raise the dead as a simple creature under the command of the caster. 7. Animate the dead, and return the creature’s mind to it, for one day. Experience of the afterlife will have made them weird, and they will likely have their own unfinished business they want to attend to. 8. The body explodes, splattering those nearby with blood, and leaving nothing left for a magician to tamper with.
Straw whisk tied with simple cord. If waved vigorously in the air, the whisk will make a huge mess of any room. Anything that isn’t nailed down will be scattered pell mell.
Quizzing glass which allows its wielder to see through another’s eyes. They simply need orient the glass towards any creature with eyes, and it will display what that creature is seeing.
Complex and awkward vestment which must be actively held together by one hand in order to be worn, precluding the use of other weapons or tools. The garment takes a full Turn to don or doff, but while it is worn anything a person says is significantly more compelling. If one uses a 2d6 reaction roll, this vestment would enable the wearer to roll 2d8 instead.
Grappling hook which falls up. It’s prongs have a jagged zig-zag pattern, as stylized lightning bolts. If allowed to reach 100′ in height, a lightning bolt will flash from the sky to catch the hook, and carry it away. The hook—and anyone holding on to its rope—will be transported [d12 * 10] miles towards the destination of their choosing. The travel is instantaneous, but dangerous, as everyone going on the journey must make a saving throw or take 2d6 damage from the lightning bolt.
Wagon with a hatch door in its bed. Beyond the door are stairs which lead into an extra-dimensional cellar. Cool, dry, and with plenty of space for storage. There is a door in the cellar which is heavily barred on the other side.
Statue of a roaring leopard carved from tufa. It has a perfectly ordinary appearance, but has been enchanted so that if someone tells a lie while their hand is in the leopard’s mouth, it will snap closed hard enough to crush bone, and won’t release until they reveal the truth that they lied to protect.
Rustic hat with a wide shady brim. The shade cast by the hat is variable depending on how tight or loose the band around its rim is fitted. The wearer can vary the shadow to be simply personal, or up to 20′ in diameter. Anyone within this shade is immune to magical spying, and will appear to be a mere trick of the light to anyone observing from more than 60 feet away.
Clay jug filled with three corrupting ichors: Slurry of Instantaneous Decay, Ooze of Malignant Mutation, and Vinegar of Undousable Incineration. The three fluids occupy the same space within the jug, each filling it entirely, but never mixing with one another. One never knows which one will come out when the jug is tipped, and no other vessel can safely contain these three potent liquids. The jug contains one gallon of each.

Etching of a woman with a black cat sitting beside a table of men. The men are drinking, with swords, axes, and shields resting nearby. The woman leans forward as if to intimidate them, and some men appear cowed, while others are defiant.

Buff coat which makes anyone who wears it appear to be the most physically powerful person in the world. All bulging muscle and towering height. This strength is entirely illusory.
Prop sword which is obviously fake and not at all threatening. Anyone touched by the blade will perceive that they’ve been stabbed by a real weapon, and react accordingly. To anyone watching, however, the object is clearly harmless. They’ll think the person who was “stabbed” is wildly overreacting.
Wooden pole which can be pressed down to 2 feet long, or stretched out to 15 feet long at the wielder’s preference. On one end of the pole is a willowy wooden hand which the wielder of the pole can manipulate as easily as they do their own hand.
Roll of cotton bandage which surreptitiously draws out more blood from any wound it binds. Unless used on a very minor cut, the bandaged person will bleed out and die without ever realizing that they haven’t been properly tended to.
Domed birdcage with a little locking door, large enough to fit most tiny creatures inside. Any such creature placed within gains a humanlike intelligence and understanding of itself, as well as the ability to speak, and a desire to be pleasing and cooperative. This state is very uncomfortable for the animal. They don’t want to be rude, but they would really very much like to get the heck out of this cage as soon as possible.
Small statue which watches and listens. When picked up it will describe everything it has seen and heard since the last time it was set down. If only recently rediscovered after being left alone somewhere for many years, this may be a lengthy and tedious recitation.
Wrought iron fire poker. Each time it touches a fire, that fire will double in size. Fortunately, irresponsible wielders of this item will kill themselves long before they pose an existential threat to the whole region.
Mousetrap of the spring bar & board style. When the jaw is pulled back and locked in place the weight of the trap increases to ten tons, and it will remain in this magically-heavy state until the trap arm is fully closed. Few creatures will be strong enough to escape the trap, and their own trapped foot or hand will prevent the bar from closing enough to dispel the magic.
Small brazier, in which burns a magic fire. Legend has it this is the first fire made by human hands, kept burning through the eons by careful tending. If it ever goes out the magic is lost forever, but so long as it still burns, any creature close enough to be warmed by its heat will be healed 1hp every 2 Turns.
Glass thermometer with a plug at its top. It’s meant to be filled with a few drops of a person’s blood, rather than with mercury. It will then display hotter temperatures when it is closer to that person, and cooler temperatures when it is further away from them.
Parasol which stores the current weather at the moment it’s opened. Closing the parasol then conjures that same weather regardless of place or time. For example the parasol might be opened in the arctic during a blizzard, then kept open until it can be closed in an arid desert to really mess with the local environment. Of course, an open parasol is an awkward thing to move around, and cannot be easily kept in one’s bags.
Comb which will quickly ferret out any needles hiding in haystacks, or any other aberrant objects that have been lost in a material fine enough to be ‘combed’ through.
Twelve marbles which accurately and unerringly roll and bounce anywhere their user desires, within the range of a thumb flick. This is not limited to a single target or semi-natural path. They will zig-zag, hop, and backtrack as needed to accomplish their wielder’s goals. This is the only power which the marbles wish their wielder to access. Together they are an object of immense cosmic power, with a will all their own. On any given flick there is a 1-in-20 chance that the marbles will choose to become lost, having decided their time with the player character is done. The marbles do not move with enough force to deal damage to most creatures.
Maraca filled with the broken teeth of the dead. Shaking it draws the attentions of nearby ghosts, causing at least one to appear (1d6 – 3, min 1). Ghosts are not friendly, but they know many secrets which were taken with them to the grave, and will sometimes trade what they know in exchange for the characters acting as their living agents in some way. Often what they want is minor, but never is it wholesome.
Satchel of wood blocks. They’re brightly colored, come in various shapes, and are of a style a child might play with. They may be arranged however the user would like. A single clap causes the blocks to grow to become structure sized, while three claps in rapid succession cause them to shrink down to normal. Note that while they could be used to build a little house for the night, the blocks are not affixed to one another, and would make for a somewhat unstable structure.
Sand timer which lasts 10 minutes. When the sand runs through to the bottom chamber, the hourglass and the person who set it in motion will jump backwards in time 10 minutes. Very handy for testing out uncertain actions, since you’re guaranteed a second try. Be warned, however, that the timer can’t be stopped once started, and there’s a 1-in-12 chance for each use that the timer will jump back without the person who turned it, disappearing from their reality, and leaving them stuck with whatever actions they’ve taken.
Line measure of the type commonly used aboard boats. When lowered into a body of water the line causes that body to be at least as deep as the line. A shallow puddle could be made into a 15-foot-deep pool by lowering 15 feet of the line into it. Note that the magic does not actually create more water, it simply causes the water that exists to bi-locate or multi-locate into extra-dimensional space.
Conductor’s baton. When pointed at an object or creature, that thing’s movement begins to produce a musical sound. If pointed at a rat, every scurrying movement and twitch of whiskers will produce melodic tones, which will merge nicely with other tones produced by other moving objects, revealing a sort of music underlying the ecology of a space. Once the baton is used, the thing indicated will continue to produce sound until the next sunrise.
Plumage arrayed in a crest, with a bolt for affixing it to a helmet. Whomever wears it may see and speak with the ghost of the long dead bird whose feathers adorn the crest. The bird is of a large sort which has long since ceased to exist anywhere in the world. It’s not kindly disposed towards the descendants of primates which wear its feathers, but will grudgingly scout for them, and offer mostly accurate information. Doing the bidding of primates is moderately preferable to existing in the tedious limbo the bird returns to whenever the crest is not being worn.
Blanket which traps any 1 person who sleeps with it in a fuzzy, two-dimensional prison. While there they perceive time, but suffer no hunger, thirst, or other basic need. Shaking the blanket causes them to come tumbling out of it.
Stained glass in a 2 foot by 2 foot wood frame, depicting a sleeping dragon. The magic of this device must be attuned to a room by hanging it in a window long enough for one full cycle of moonlight to shine through it. After which the dragon recognizes this room as the location of its hoard. The glass may be carried anywhere in the world, and functions as a small portal back to that room. Any objects placed on the stained glass will disappear when no one is looking, and can be found later in the dragon’s hoard room.
Length of chain 15′ from end-to-end. If lain in a circle, only true promises may be spoken within. It does not lay a geas on the promise-maker, but it does prevent them from speaking if they lack the intention and the will to carry their promise through.
Locket capable of binding a willing soul to this world. It must be placed on the dead person’s body before the body grows cold, after which the soul may be asked to remain awhile before moving on. If they agree, they will appear in the locket as a tiny portrait capable of speech. Being stuck in a locket is dreadfully tedious, and the amount of time any soul is willing to stay there will range from hours to weeks, but not longer.
Razor-sharp scalpel which can cut into living flesh without causing any pain, and any damage caused by its cuts heals itself within a few hours.
Dirty rag of cloth which must be worn in some way in order to work its magic. It might be used as a pocket square, a kerchief, or just lain on top of one’s head. The rag then causes it to appear as though everything the user is wearing or carrying is trash. If they were to hold up a gold coin, it would look like a rock to everyone else. They will be dismissed as a beggar or a dirt farming peasant.
Hide of a great animal treated with magic oils. Three people holding its edges can hurl a fourth person 30′ in the air, after which they will drift gently and safely back to the ground. Each additional person adds 10′ to how high the bouncer can be thrown, up to a maximum of 10 people hurling someone 100′.

An etching depicting an assortment of farm tools. Saws, shears, knives, a bell, ladders, a wheelbarrow, a bucket, a hammer, and a few items of unclear function.

Rake which creates a magical one-way window through any surface it’s dragged across. Each stroke of the rake causes the window to show a space 10 feet deeper. So, for example, if there is a secret cultist den 20 feet underground, then raking the surface a single time will show whatever earth is 10′ below the spot, and raking the surface a second time will show the cultist’s hideout.
Perfume spritzer which causes any ol’ liquid placed inside it to smell like delicious food when sprayed. “Delicious” here being relative to the nose that smells it.
Bar of soap which is most effectively used when one is fully dressed. Not only does it clean the user perfectly, but it also removes minor bruises and abrasions, performs minor mending to clothes, polishes gear until it gleams, and otherwise removes all signs of wear and tear.
Bicycle with a peculiar lever on its handle bar. Any distance covered while riding this bike can be instantaneously un-covered by pulling on the lever. The bike and rider are teleported immediately to where they started from. This option is lost the moment the rider dismounts the bike.
Torch made from treated hardwoods which will never burn down so long as the cloth fuel is replaced regularly. Carvings indicate a particular way of holding the torch (somewhat awkwardly) which causes its flame to stay in whatever air it moves through. Somewhat like the images that are left behind by moving the torch quickly, except semi-permanent and still as hot as ever. With a little patience a person could create a wall of torch fire to close up a corridor, for example. Once placed, the fire remains until the wielder adjusts their grip on the torch.
Ball of yarn with little wisps of smoke twirling off it. When dropped, it will tend to roll towards something that deserves the dropper’s attention. It may indicate secret doors, trap triggers, the hiding spot of a foe waiting in ambush, or just a good deal at market. Each time the yarn is dropped, a few inches of its length burns away, until there’s not enough left for it to have any use.
Paper envelope, appropriate to contain a folded piece of paper. When closed with a wax seal, and words describing a destination location are etched on the wax, a gust of wind will whisk the envelope (and anything it carries) away towards that destination. The location can be anywhere, so long as it is a specific place. “Tom’s desk on the second floor office of his home in Bluehaven” will work. “Tom’s current location” will not. The wind carries the envelope about as fast as a bird flies.
Snow globe which contains a small village. If placed down somewhere and rubbed with the hand, a person can be transported into the village. There they can access the goods and services of the town, and when they wish to leave they merely need to rub the glass dome from the inside to pop out again. The villagers are fully aware of their condition. This place is a purgatory for them, where they are punished for terrible sins committed in life. If they can behave like decent people for for 100 years they’ll get to be reborn, and have a second chance at living a good life. If the snow globe is smashed while someone is inside, they will be trapped at that smaller size until some alternate means of growing large can be found.
Pale blue paste flecked with silver. Safe to touch with the fingers for spreading, but a mere moment after being spread the paste hardens to the strength of iron welds.
Broom which produces a strong gust of wind in whatever direction it’s swept towards. Strong enough to cause an unsuspecting person to stumble, or to propel a sailing ship. There is no limitation on the frequency this item can be used, though note that once a foe gets used to the wind it will have almost no impact on their ability to act.
Tiny catapult, small enough to fit in a backpack. A peculiar spigot allows it to be “inflated” to full size by blowing or using a bellows. At full size it is just as sturdy and heavy as any other catapult, yet if the spigot is opened it will release all the air pumped into it and the catapult will return to its small size.
Plow which digs furrows that are potent with fertile magic which will grow plants from any item as if it were a seed. Plant a sword, get a sword tree. Plant a gold coin, get a gold coin flower. The plants require a normal amount of time and care to develop, and the items they produce will not replicate any magic or artistry present in the original seed. For example, a gold coin will not produce a flower with the same image stamped on it.
Whetstone, long with two flat sides. Twelve strokes will hone any blade to a set purpose. The first side hones a blade to fighting trim, and could make a butter knife dagger-sharp. The second side forms a worker’s edge, allowing even a delicate rapier to chop trees like an axe, or strike stone with its point like a pick.
Belt buckle in the shape of an alligator’s head. A whistle brings the buckle to life, and it can move about using the belt its attached to to push itself along the ground. Its abilities are limited, but it will do whatever it’s asked. Once awakened the alligator will not go back to sleep until it is fed.
Scale which is able to weigh values other than weight. A dial on its base allows it to be set to measure monetary value, cultural value, academic value, spiritual value, and probably a few other sorts of value as well. In order to be of any use, the scale must have something to be weighed against. A gold coin to measure monetary value, or a holy symbol to measure spiritual value, for example.
Spectacles which allow the wearer to see a number above the head of any property-owning creature, showing the net value of their assets.
Whip which tangles expertly and perfectly every time. Able to quickly grab a far ledge, or reliably initiate a distance grapple against a foe. When targeting a living creature the wielder must roll a d20 all the same, and if a 1 is rolled the whip deals draws blood, and deals 1 hp of damage. Contact with blood causes it to lose its magic until ritually purified for 30 days and 31 nights.
Veil of coarse thread, but hemmed elaborately. When worn it reduces vision to indistinct shapes. Putting it on and wandering aimlessly for d6 + 3 turns will lead a person to a safe place. There is food, potable water, shelter, and safety from attack. (All relative to the environment. Where the veil leads in a dungeon or desert will be different than where it would lead in a lush countryside or city). The veil wearer may bring as many people as they like with them, led in a chain of hands, all with eyes closed. While wandering the wearer and followers are guided by the veil’s magics, and will remain safe from harm or violent encounters. However, if anyone opens their eyes, or if the veil wandering is halted before its proper end, the wanderers will invariably find themselves in a terribly dangerous situation. The veil’s magic is able to lead the wearer, but cannot phase them through bars if they’re locked in a cell, or divert a determined foe from killing them if donned mid-combat.
Casket of dark citrus wood. If a person is properly buried in this casket, then the very next day a tree will have grown where they were put to rest. High in the branches of the tree is a book, or perhaps several, which contain every noteworthy piece of information which this individual took with them to the grave.
Censer which produces smoke of special divinatory power. After a space has been thoroughly filled with its fumes, items and marks which are evidence of some wrongdoing will glow a faint yellow. The censer reveals anything that points towards violence, deceit, oath-breaking, or willful disregard towards the welfare of others.
Rug, blue with floral patterns at its edges. About 3′ wide, and 30′ long. When rolled out it’s stiff enough to serve as a bridge, and tough enough to form a short barricade. Only the very ends remain pliable, and allow the rug to be rolled up again.
Empty turtle’s shell which, when placed in water, propels itself at incredible speeds. If the user is able to keep hold of it (no easy task!) they may learn the nuances of movement which allow them to guide its course, and move through the water with the speed and grace of any marine animal.
Embroidery hoop which allows objects to be stored as images on fabric. The fabric must be held firmly in place by the hoop, after which anything from a dagger to a dog can be placed on the taut cloth. The placed item will disappear, existing now only as an embroidered image. At any time the cloth can be torn to break the enchantment and release whatever was stored there.
City seed. Heavy and awkward. When planted, it will overnight grow into a bustling town filled with people who believe in a fictional history of their lives and their town.

That’s another d100 table on the books! I hope you enjoyed it, and that you’re happy, healthy, and getting vaccinated!

d100 Merchants

An older man with a chinstrap beard counts his gold coins.

When next your players wish to go shopping, they may discover that this store is tended by someone with their own rich internal life. This post was written by request from a friend, who has since informed me that it is not at all what she wanted and is totally useless to her. I probably should have clarified her needs at some point, but perhaps it will be useful to you!

The shopkeep / merchant / salesperson is…

Going to notice something about the party. They’ll latch onto a peculiarity and refuse to let it go. If someone is wearing a funny hat they’ll make little jokes about it. If someone is of a species not commonly seen in this region, this person will ask probing questions. They just do not have good boundaries.
Chatty. She wants your opinion on some big issue in the news, or perhaps on one of life’s big questions. If someone makes the mistake of answering her, she takes that as her opportunity to give HER opinion, the explanation for which will last at least seven times as long.
Intensely lamenting a dead plant which he tried really hard to tend to properly.
Obliged to try and upsell every customer on her cousin’s homemade jewelry. It’s terrible stuff. Cheap, garish, unwieldy. She’s embarrassed to be selling it, but familial solidarity is important.
An excitable and energetic young woman. She’s highly knowledgeable about what she’s selling, with a level of expertise that is moderately remarkable in someone so young. She works for a disinterested and penny pinching owner, who doesn’t pay her enough to live on, and frequently demands that she spend more time selling product, and less time helping customers make informed choices.
A pair of elderly newlyweds who cannot keep their hands off one another. This is the first day back from their honeymoon, and they’re still in full-on hornt mode.
Pretending to be asleep so she can catch thieves.
Secretly practicing some ultimately harmless but culturally taboo religious rite. Perhaps they are worshiping the Sun while living under Christendom, or they may be leaving offerings to the finger bones of their ancestors in a place where anything other than toe bones is considered a great sacrilege.
A lethargic young fellow who is thoroughly annoyed to be stuck in this dead-end job. Questions about his wares make him indignant. He’s a shopkeep. The junk on the shelves is what it is. Buy stuff or don’t, but don’t bother him about it.
A stocky redheaded woman in her early thirties, with one eye and one arm. She’s short tempered, and particularly has no patience for looky-loos. She has a tendency to bully women who come into the store. She is attempting to flirt with them, but is very bad at it.
An elderly woman with a lot of religion in her heart. She tends to assume that everyone she meets shares her peculiar beliefs and prejudices, and attempts to commiserate with them about the sorry state of the world.
The bastard child of some great noble. At least that’s what he claims. There is a vague resemblance, which he seems to think is the only evidence he needs. He’s outspoken about local politics, and all of the things he will change when his parent finally gets around to recognizing him.
Someone who grew up quite affluent, but whose family fell on hard times while she was yet in their late teens. The trouble was sufficient to bump them down two or three socioeconomic classes. Now in her late twenties she’s learned how to get by as a dirty poor, but has an irritating sense that the world owes her a better living.
An older fellow whose body isn’t regulating his body temperature properly. He’s either feeling way too cold, or way too warm in any given environment.
A bored young woman fiddling with a bag of marbles. If no one is around, she’ll ask if the customer wants to play a round with her. She’ll even offer a discount if they will liven up her tedious day with a few minutes of playing marbles.
Apparently surrounded by very eager customers who mysteriously clear a path for the players as they approach. The shopkeep has hired a whole crowd of actors to make his shop look busy, in the hopes of attracting business.
Eager to be well regarded for his intelligence. Recently he learned the word “Axiom / Axiomatic.” He doesn’t properly understand its use, but is eager to slip int into conversation to sound smarter.
Wishing her partner was here. She has no idea how to properly record the inventory, they usually handle these things.
Stressed about his kids running around the store, bothering customers and making a mess of things.
Dreadfully ill. Coughing, sneezing, the whole deal. She came in to work out of a misguided sense of dedication, and is very proud of herself.
Outspoken about what a hard lot merchants have to deal with. Everyone above her in society is leeching off her hard work, and everyone beneath her is a layabout. In her estimation it is the merchant class which built society.
Raising funds for an orphanage. She’s got a big bucket on the counter filled with donations, and will be sure to ask anyone who makes a purchase to consider adding their own contribution.
A beautiful man. Drop-dead gorgeous. Lithe of body, gentle of touch, with dark hair and a faint leatherwood scent. He is fiercely devoted to his partner, and does not appreciate people hitting on him.
Attempting to learn a new language out of a book. She’s hoping it will allow her to expand her business into new markets, but she’s having a tough time of it. Her enunciation wrong. If one of the players happens to speak the language she’s learning, they could really help her out.
Cooking a set of eels on a makeshift griddle in the shop. The sea isn’t anywhere nearby, so it is a rare treat to have fresh eels. They will not share even a single bite unless they’re offered an absurdly disproportionate amount of money. They’re also hard of hearing, and may intentionally “misunderstand” any inquiries about their treat.
Wearing an ornate metal nose prosthetic on her face. She likes to make up stories about the spectacular ways in which she lost her nose, though if her partner is around, she’ll usually pipe in with the very mundane true story.

A busy market scene. People in Renaissance-era clothing bustle about, buying and selling. In the foreground, a large scale is used to weigh a barrel against a set of weights. A man holds a basket to be weighed next.

In need of someone to do some minor chores for them. Rake leaves, clean gutters, paint fence, that sort of thing. They’re too frail to do so themselves, and will offer a nice little discount for the work. Not enough of a discount to justify the time involved, but not nothing either.
Accompanied by an overbearing guard who makes it very uncomfortable to shop. This is a new arrangement. The vendor himself had a bad experience recently, and isn’t yet ready to see any issue with the guard’s behavior. Once he notices how little money he’s making, he’ll learn to reign the guard in more.
A collector of live insects. She keeps a great many of her darling pets with her, even while traveling. They require smelly foods and uncomfortable levels of heat. Several are allowed to crawl across her body casually as she works.
Trying to keep himself together, despite having gone through a really bad breakup just yesterday.
Either an informant for some secretive organization, or just the biggest gossip you’ve ever met. He’s absolutely shameless about it, plugging everyone he meets for the juiciest information he can get.
Trying to to sell off excess stock of a peculiar fruit. They thought something exotic to the area would sell well, but they grossly miscalculated. Nobody wants the stuff, and it’s going to start going bad soon. They’re claiming the stuff has wild magical properties in order to liquidate their stock before it rots.
Covetous of something the player character customers posses. It would probably be something fairly obvious: a nice hat, or sword, or bit of jewelry. He may try to buy it, or if he can’t afford it, may attempt to find out where the customers are staying so he can steal it while they sleep.
Red-faced about a very recent and very public embarrassment. He made a big show of seeking some minor position of power within the community, talked to everyone as if it were a sure thing, and when the moment came his bid for the position received absolutely no support whatsoever. He’s a bit of a laughing stock at the moment.
Recently returned to this job, after having quit it in spectacular fashion a few weeks ago. They resent themselves for coming crawling back, and are turning that resentment outwards at everyone.
A little high, and has just come to a perspective-altering realization about the nature of the universe. Something about all reality being predicated on tension between slime and algorithms. They’re eager to share their new wisdom with others, though in about 20 minutes it won’t even properly make sense to them anymore.
Wrestling with a disorderly pet they’re taking care of for a friend. Perhaps a dog, cat, bird, or—most destructive of all—a monkey?
Lifting weights, doing crunches, and jumping rope between transactions. They mutter a lot of weird self-abuse / encouragement, like “Keep going, keep going you trash heap, just 30 more. Nobody will ever love you unless you do 30 more!” If asked why they’re doing this, they will enigmatically say that they’re “in training,” and wink.
Using a complicated sales system which requires a lot of paperwork for even very small transactions. They insist it’s better for everyone in the long run that every detail be properly documented, but clearly the effort is wearing even them down.
Distracted by tending to a crying baby. She is embarrassed and apologetic about it. Way more than she needs to be.
In the midst of a shouting match with their business partner. The two both try to keep it together when a customer shows up, but neither can resist making snide remarks, and then the shouting starts again. Savvy customers could potentially play the two off one another to get some real bargains.
A young person with just…just the absolute worst haircut you can imagine. Like seven different styles all fighting one another on the battlefield of her head. There are huge bald spots, and spikes, and curls, and braids, and it’s just….distracting.
A blind, jack-of-all-trades hustler. While shopping with her, she’ll casually mention all sorts of other things you might pay her for. She is (according to her own reckoning) an accomplished barber, an adequate player of both fiddle and concertina, an excellent fisherwoman, thoroughly knowledgeable about safe paths through a nearby woodland, and not-half-bad as a doctor.
Insistent that everyone in his shop must strictly observe some peculiar cultural or religious practice. There are signs everywhere reinforcing this rule. Characters may be asked to wear heavy chains about their shoulders, or carry a fish in their pocket, or not to speak, or to wear special curly toed shoes, etc.
A shepherd. This isn’t her job. She’s the cousin of the usual shopkeep, and was press-ganged into taking over the job this morning because her cousin is ill. She has no idea what she’s doing.
On a bit of a tear at the moment. They’re angry, and eager to rant about their personal enemies to anyone who will listen. Every stimulus, no matter how banal, somehow prompts fresh memories for them to be angry about.
Convinced that he has a special ability to spot a sucker from a mile away. And the party sure does look like a bunch of suckers to him.
Carefully watching an hourglass. If the party stick around for awhile, she’ll flip the glass and scratch a tally in her notebook. Even when making a sale she keeps glancing at the hourglass, as if it will somehow jump ahead if she doesn’t keep eyes on it. If asked why she’s doing this, she will change the subject by trying to upsell the customer on something.
In mourning. Someone very dear to them died recently. Their grief is sincere, but it is also being highly performed as a show of respect to the departed. Everything is draped in black, they weep loudly, and have even hired professional mourners to stand outside the shop beating their breasts and crying to the heavens.
Intensely enthusiastic, and desperately needs everyone around them to be on the same level they are. If they talk to someone who isn’t smiling and giddy, they feel as though that person must be angry with them. As such they’re constantly trying to coax an unseemly excitement out of people.
Gravely concerned that a recent scientific discovery conflicts with their religious beliefs. They consider themselves both religiously devout and scientifically enlightened, so this is a big problem. They are consumed by attempting to massage these two conflicting sets of facts into accord and resolve their personal paradox.
A foreigner who speaks the local language only brokenly. She is kind and her wares are good, but her lack of familiarity with the local language and customs is causing her problems. She will invariably commit some serious faux pas, offer to sell something dramatically below its proper value, or otherwise put herself in an awkward position which the players can choose either to take advantage of, or help her out with.

A peasant woman with a basket filled with ribbons on a portable stand. She gestures towards the viewer, as if inviting them to peruse her wares.

Very passionate about her hobby. In her off-hours, she devotes almost all her time and money to attempts at breeding cryptids. She has nothing else in her life to talk about, and she is a very talkative person.
Front-woman for some shady practices. Nothing in this shop is actually expected to sell. This place does not turn any profit. She makes the real money from letting criminals use it as a meeting place, or as a warehouse for stolen goods.
Drunk, wearing an outlandishly colorful costume, and playing dangerous games with a deadly weapon. Perhaps he is swinging a sword in wobbly-yet-artful loops, or pointing a loaded crossbow around the room while making ‘pew!’ sounds.
Wayyyyy too casual with threats of violence. He just weaves it into his conversation everywhere, like “If you don’t buy that you’ll be dead before sundown for wasting my time, haha.” He is not serious, but for whatever reason he thinks this behavior is normal.
Obsessed with the peculiarities of a culture two nations away from here. All he knows are tidbits of information gleaned from stories and art, which have led him to construct a fictionalized version of that culture which suits his own quirks. He’s taken to using scattered words from that nation’s language, and explaining them incorrectly to anyone who looks confused (which is everyone).
Planning to commit a murder tonight. She’s anxiously going over her plan again and again in her mind, and terrified she’s going to tip her hand. She just wants to get this interaction over with as quickly and normally as possible.
Supremely kindhearted, to the point of absolute absurdity. This must be a new business, or she’s new to running it, or has recently had a dramatic shift in her personality, because no one so generous could possibly keep this business afloat for more than a few weeks.
A sub-rational nihilist. She actively disbelieves in logic, and causality. Reality is random. If it appears that reactions follow actions, and that their relationship is predictable, that’s just one more layer to the cosmic joke that is life. Her boss insists she take the correct amount of money for purchases, though. The boss is such a philistine.
An absurdly tall woman. Seven feet if she’s an inch. She’s got shifty eyes, is scruffily groomed, and smells…peculiar. She is very worried that someone will discover that she’s been illicitly fermenting cheeses in the back room.
Garbed in the absurd and impractical fashions that were in vogue with the high aristocracy a few years ago. He picked up the costume second hand in an effort to look cultured and well-off. The clothes are constantly getting in his way, and he fail to understand that absolutely no one is impressed.
A person whose legs were not fully formed when they were born. They’ve rigged the whole shop with a complex series of pulleys and ropes which allow them to zip around the rafters and drop down anywhere they need. They’re able to get around with downright frightening speed.
A short fellow with a great big beard, which rests across the counter. He wears a horned helm on his head, has a glassy 1000-yard stare, and speaks almost exclusively via indecipherable grunts. One might be tempted to think there’s something seriously wrong with him, but this is just the means by which he combats boredom. He speaks quite clearly when indicating prices and enforcing the details of his transactions.
A person of indeterminate gender, wearing a long black cloak. Everything about their behavior—their accent, their puns about sucking blood, their avoidance of mirrors and light—makes it painfully obvious that they are a vampire. They aren’t though, not really. They avoid light because they’re sensitive to it, avoid mirrors because they don’t like the way they look, and make bloodsucking puns because they think it’s funny to play on people’s assumptions about them.
A deep believer in the importance of proper augury. She does not attempt to tell the future (such things are irreligious nonsense), but to determine whether or not there is any particular divine favor or disfavor for her endeavors. She has a great pen of chickens outside, and will often throw feed to them, and study their movements to calculate her proper course.
Insultingly arrogant. He makes no secret of the fact that he thinks his wares are too good for a party of dirty adventurers. He’ll take your money, but emphasizes that he doesn’t accept returns.
Willing to accept certain…unusual forms of payment. They regularly barter with wizards, demons, and other dark things which live in the forest. They know adventuring types when they see them, and know also that such folk are often willing to part with things like blood, souls, first born children, etc.
An absolute drop-dead, twelve-outta-ten hottie who has lived their entire adolescence and adult life among dwarves, who didn’t recognize them as anything other than just another human. They’re totally unaware of how attractive they are.
An enthusiastic sports fan. She’s desperate to talk to someone about a match that occurred recently, which the party is likely to be unaware of.
A fellow who is casually tossing items around the store as he works. He throws junk into the trash, product onto the shelves, or onto the counter. Nothing is being damaged, but that seems to be a result of luck rather than skill on his part. It’s probably just a matter of time before he causes problems with his careless behavior.
A massive, muscled, shirtless fellow. She’s got a luscious mane of shoulder-length hair which has clearly been tended with great devotion. She doesn’t say much. She just does her job, and occasionally answer questions with impressive flexing rather than with words.
The architect of a massive building project which was completely bungled. The structure collapsed, dozens died, it major tragedy. The news spread quickly around the area. She had to change her name, her hair, and start a new life.
Suffering from a peculiar paranoia. He believes he is being watched, but has come to enjoy that feeling. He takes a certain exhibitionist glee from being observed at all times, and often assumes new people are privy to details about his life which they have no way of knowing.
Going to try to sell something under the table. It is unlikely the players will want this item (perhaps an old racing toad who is past his prime but ready to stud, or a vial of angel blood, or something like that). None the less, she will talk about the sale as if it is an amazing deal on highly illicit goods. It’s unclear whether she is sincere, or if this is just some strange sales ploy.
A Don Quixote style character. She believes she runs a very high class place, with a royal clientele. Her shop and wares are actually a little below average, but you’ll never convince her of that.

A seamster sits in the large open entryway to his shop, working with needle and thread on a piece of fabric. His wares hang in the background. A man in a cape and feathered cap is speaking to him as he works. There is a sad dog in the corner.

Cursed with invisibility. He hates it, and wears a lot of full-body clothes so people can see him. Doesn’t wear masks most of the time though. Maybe on formal occasions, but in his day-to-day they’re too irritating to bother with. This man is incredibly tired of people trying to hire him based entirely on his invisibility, and will turn hostile at any suggestion that he could “use” his malady.
A living statue which does not speak. He communicates primarily by pointing. He has a slot in his chest where payment may be deposited.
A precocious child with an oversize head—both literally, and figuratively. He’s a meticulous planner, and has every confidence that this first little business is just a stepping stone to greater things. He doesn’t entirely overrate his own ability, he is quite good. But he is a child, and lacks for social intelligence. He has no idea how casually insulting he is, and how many customers he has already driven away.
Engaged in an act of performance art. You only think you’re in a shop because you’re not fully appreciating all the artistic nuance on display. This is artifice. A statement that reflects the artist/shopkeeps supreme genius. You can still buy things from him, but it’s not JUST a transaction. It MEANS something.
Cursed with the form of a pig. Upturned snout, bright pink skin, little curly tail, the works. This is a real problem for him, but paying the rent is a bigger problem, so he’s got to keep the business going and hope the curse works itself out eventually.
An animate structure. The shop themself is alive, and avaricious. They have a face which can manifest itself on any surface within the building. What they use the money for is uncertain, but they seem to want it very desperately.
The body of a person who needed money badly enough to allow a wizard to perform experiments on them. An unintended side effect of said experiments is that their mind got swapped with a creature from another world that orbits a distant star. That creature is sly, distrustful, and slow to action. They’ve been living in this body for a few months now, attempting to blend in as they learn about our world and species.
A very sweaty fellow who is followed everywhere he goes by a wizard. The wizard insist you pay no attention to her. As the sweaty man goes about his business, the wizard collects his sweat in vials, and studies each carefully before labeling it, and placing it in her satchel.
An orc with a great big white beard, who has all the typical lexical impediments one would stereotypically expect from an orc: trouble with pronouns, mismatched word order, etc. The orc is actually something of a polyglot, fluent in 100 languages from a dozen or more different worlds. He’s working in this shop in order to immerse himself in your culture while learning your language as his 101st. He’s been working at it for about a week now.
A gray furred, elderly, rat-person scholar. She really ought to be spending her days in teaching and academic study, but times are hard right now. Even the most learned must find ways to make ends meet.
A guy who clearly does not work here. He just noticed the shopkeep had wandered off for some reason, and decided to try and handle sales while they were gone. He’s not trying to steal or swindle anybody. He’s just acting on a peculiar impulse, and hasn’t yet realized why that might be a problem for others.
A subby guy with boundary issues. Tries to maneuver people into dominating him without their consent.
Human shaped, but only 3 feet tall, and covered head-to-toe in long greasy hair which leaves only her eyes visible. She speaks a language that is not intelligible to anyone in this region, but seems capable enough in the conduct of her business. She gets by mostly with hand gestures.
The demon Pogu has been bound to this body, and kept in thrall to a wizard. The wizard found that she had accumulated entirely too much junk over the years, and tricked Pogu into this bondage until all her excess assets are liquidated. Pogu must seek a reasonable price and must transact his business with the consent of the customer, but has few limitations beyond these.
Leaking honey from his nose and ears, because a colony of bees has made their hive within his skull. His brain is still in there as well. He and the bees came to this arrangement semi-voluntarily after he committed a grave offense against them, and was allowed to choose the mode of his restitution. He assures anyone who asks that he is fine.
What appears to be a half-developed fetus curled up in a floating uterus. The creature speaks by blowing bubbles out the various tubes of the uterus. Each bubble releases a syllable as it pops. The creature is strange, but does not revel in the curiosity of customers. They are a crafty and diligent salesperson, and will not gratify any attempt to pry into their personal life.
Someone very clearly under the influence of a charm spell. They say there’s a special bargain today: you can choose to pay with money like normal, OR climb down into the “hole of fun,” and keep your item for free! The hole they indicate leads to a subterranean nightmare chamber where the customer will be devoured by terrible monsters. It is not subtle.
Riit , Giit, and Viit are a trio of bear brothers. They are not anthropomorphized in any way, save that they can speak and engage in commerce. They have a tendency to bicker constantly among themselves, but clearly care for one another very deeply.
A lizard man who has just gotten to a really good part in the book he is reading. Most certainly will not be pleased to serve customers at the moment.
A disembodied voice who sees everything that happens within her shop. She is terribly exasperated by folks trying to outwit her, and has a standing policy of adding a 10% ‘shithead tax,’ cumulative for every attempt. Notice of this tax is clearly posted behind the counter.
A fish-woman who moves about the shop via a series of hidden pipes and open canals. There are a few different tanks which allow her to swim up to eye level with customers. She specializes in trade goods from the deep sea, but has expanded into local wares as well.
Someone whose reincarnation cycle is broken. Their consciousness never resets between lives. They remember every one from their months in the womb, to their deaths, and the strange visions experienced between. Their memory spans countless generations. They’ve used their vast knowledge to rule the world in previous lives, but that was a long time ago. For the last few lives they’ve mostly just been going through the motions.
An ethical cannibal who will pay to eat bits of you. She would never take meat from someone who didn’t or couldn’t consent, and she always pays a fair price for her food.
A mystical aberration. She was born with the ability to produce powerful jolts of electricity from her body. She uses this ability to emphasize how “shocking” her prices are! What a bargain! She makes a good living here. She will scoff at any suggestion that she leave a prosperous business, a lovely family, good friends, and a stable community to pursue a life of adventure. That’s not a real job! Get a life.

I hope everyone remains safe and healthy. Don’t let the bastards get you down, friends. America delenda est.

The Dungeon d100s: Factions

Two or more factions competing for resources might be the most vital element of a good dungeon. Certainly they are the bedrock of the social dungeons that most excite me.

Unrepentant enthusiast for alliteration that I am, my first step in creating these hundred factions was to name them. As discussed in my Two Week Megadungeon post I generally stuck to the Type of Creature + Type of Behavior format, with the added constraint that the two must be alliterative. I then used the names as a loose creative prompt from which to derive the details of the faction. In some cases, a great emphasis must be placed on “loose.” Certainly this post would come across as way less silly if I deleted the original names for these groups. I seriously considered doing just that, but decided against it because I thought it might be a useful glimpse into the process, and also because silliness is a good thing.

The Dungeon d100s
1 – Themes
2 – Structures
3 – Rewards
4 – Doors, Floors, Walls, & Ceilings
5 – Factions
6 – Locks & Keys

Bonus – Auto-roller, at Liche’s Libram.

d100 Dungeon Factions:

Academic Arsonists: A group philosophically opposed to philosophy, and all other forms of impractical knowledge. Each week they ritually burn any high minded books they’ve managed to collect. Whomever contributes most is given special consideration in the coming week.
Avaricious Architects: Constantly making elaborate alterations to the dungeon. Are very greedy. Will make claims on anything the party finds, and shake them down for money at every encounter.
Argumentative Anatomists: Creatures with the ability to rearrange their body parts. Each thinks they know what the best configuration is, and insists everyone who disagrees is a fool for not doing it the way they do.
Ancient Anarchists: Cursed with immortality without eternal youth, this decrepit faction live in an equitable little commune where everyone shares in the work when they’re able, and is cared for whenever they break a hip. Lacking physical strength, most have learned minor magics.
Barbarous Bovines: Muscular cow folk who speak in a language that is difficult for outsiders to learn. Unless special effort is made, only gestural communication is possible.
Bedazzled Beardmen: More beard than they are man, these tumbles of tangled hair have little hands and feet sticking out from their brush, as well as deep sunken eyes visible through it. They decorate their bodies with glitter.
Boastful Beavers: Supremely confident in their own cultural supremacy, though their primary interest seems to be filling the dungeon with haphazardly constructed barricades which they regard as great works of art.
Bloodthirsty Bibliomaniacs: All books belong to them, whether or not those books have yet entered their possession. They rarely read the books. Possessing them is merely an unhealthy compulsion which has become a cultural obsession.
Bridal Battalion: A young member of this faction comes of age when they venture into civilization to steal a bridal gown of their very own. For the rest of their lives the gown will mark them both as an adult and a warrior.
Cantankerous Crystals: A group of yoni eggs given life after being “born” so many times over. Discovering their frustrated intelligence, a mountebank lich bestowed them with arms, legs, and size. They have gratefully served her ever since.
Cultured Cranes: Lanky bird people who stand twice the height of a man. They socially organize themselves in a fopocracy, where the snootiest and most flippant become their leaders.
Ceiling Celebrities: Creatures which are something like a cross between bats and spiders, and vastly prefer being “upside down,” though they find that term somewhat offensive. A few years back another adventurer wrote a book about living among them for awhile. It was quite popular, and everyone in the party will be at least passingly familiar with the text. The creatures themselves loathe the book, and the many self-serving inaccuracies the author inserted into it.
Churchgoing Charioteers: Tiny folk who use mouse-drawn chariots to get around the dungeon quickly enough to keep up with their larger neighbors. They’re devoted followers of the same religion that is dominant in the region outside the dungeon, though their own precepts have drifted into some minor heresies.
Debonair Dads: Whilst attempting to get out of some parental responsibilities, a wizard accidentally created several dozens facsimiles of themselves, all of whom were significantly more charming. Only one was put into service, while the rest were dumped here in this dungeon to form a loose community together.
Devotees of the Debauched Dauphin: The rightful prince of a surface kingdom was so debased in his predilections that everyone agreed to have him quietly killed. Exhibiting a surprising cleverness, he escaped to the dungeon with his closest confidants where they continue their debauch in somewhat humbler circumstances.
Diplomatic Deerfolk: Lean creatures wearing armor made from shed antlers. They make an effort to appear amicable, but only so they can trick people into disadvantageous agreements. Once the agreements are made, they must be obeyed, or violence is justified.
Determined Doorkeepers: A religious sect who have taken certain metaphors about God opening and/or closing doors a bit too literally. Small groups are assigned to doors deemed religiously significant, and tend them 24/7.
Exploitative Employers: They have money, but are miserly loathe to party with it. They’re always trying to hire people in wildly unbalanced deals, and have no qualms against taking vital resources hostage if it means someone will work for them.
Enigmatic Eels: Tusk-mouthed sea serpents which drift through the air as easily as through water. Their culture has a somewhat unusual relationship with names, such that each individual has several dozen, several of which they are meant to use only while praying, and never to speak out loud to anyone at all. They are an insular society, and none have any name which is appropriate to share with an outsider.
Erupting Essayist: Shambling cones of rock which slide around without any recognizable anatomy. They do perceive the outside world in their own way, and communicate by blasting papers covered with their thoughts and feelings out of the hole at their peak.
Earnest Earth: Humanoids made from packed earth. Their bodies are fragile, and they much prefer to avoid violence at all costs. They’re gifted speakers, friendly, and likable, but this often leads them into forming alliances with whomever is most willing and able of doing violence to them.
Fundamentalist Fedoras: A dogmatic religious group which is among the weakest of the dungeon’s factions. They believe themselves to be an inherently superior species, and that they are owed the submission of outsiders. Difficult to get along with, but easy to manipulate.
Fecund Fowl: Flightless birdfolk capable of firing eggs out of their bodies like projectile weapons. Likely occupy a space with high ceilings to maximize the distance of their attacks. Their society is nominally equitable, though many jokes are made at the male’s relative defenselessness.
Frank Frauds: A group of con artists who have recently been cursed with the need to be honest. Their habits have not yet adjusted to their new condition, and they frequently find themselves putting their feet in their mouths.
Folklorist Fog: Mist creatures which trade in stories. They do not understand anyone who fails to recognize the value of this currency, though most of what they have to share is from cultures too alien to be easily understood.
Garrulous Ghouls: Corpse enthusiasts who believe it is an absolute shame that so many bodies are left in the ground to decompose alone, where the process cannot be witnessed or smelled. They collect bodies in their domain, and celebrate the whole process start to finish.
Glowing Gazers: Humanoids made entirely from light, save for their terrible unlidded eyes. This form is a state of enlightenment which they wish to share with others, but it is obvious they have some sinister secret they’re not sharing.
Grimacing Grandmas: A group of cantankerous older women who were tired of being considered a nuisance and set off to enjoy the end of their lives with some good rows against monsters. They typically call most people “grandchild,” or “sweet pea.”
Gifted Gaffers: A people suffering under a curse which causes them to metaphorically put their foot in their mouth during every social interaction. They have very few friends, due to their constantly unintentional insults. If their speech can be tolerated, they’re eager to have allies.
Heretical Haberdashers: Devotees of a certain style of headwear which has gone so starkly out of fashion that they were cast out of polite society. Plunging head first into the depths of the sunk cost fallacy, they’ve become a grubby band of dungeon dwellers marked out only by their pristine and ugly hats.
Hook Handed Humorists: A genetic offshoot of hook horrors which are capable of speech, and absolutely addicted to comedy. It is their only art form. A novel joke is as good as currency with them.
Hygienic Hogs: Pig people in fitted white clothing. They are obsessively clean, to the point of distraction. They spend hours each day scrubbing every inch of themselves and their home. Untidiness of any kind is an offense, though they know to set their expectations low for outsiders.

Havoc Harlots: Muscle-bound and clad in armored lingerie, these worshipers of elemental chaos must do battle as part of their mating ritual with one another. They’re a horny lot, and tend to throw themselves into a lot of pointless fights. If an outsider can roll with that, the Havoc Harlots are otherwise a pretty chill group.
Ignorant Intellectuals: A cadre of know-nothings and dilettantes convinced their armchair rationalism enables them to understand, grapple with, and solve every problem faced by “lesser” minds. Easily flattered, but infuriatingly pedantic.
Irritable Immolators: Sensitive to loud noise, quiet noise, and most forms of vibration, these grouchy dungeon denizens are sometimes difficult to get along with, which wouldn’t be so troublesome if they couldn’t set things on fire with their minds.
Irresolute Idealists: They have some good ideas about how the dungeon ought to be run, but refuse to do the work to make it happen. Instead they pretend the world already works the way they want it to. When they can’t pretend, they mostly just complain about how this wouldn’t have happened if everyone had listened to them.
Icy Investigators: Puzzle solving savants with very little emotional affect. The only thing they value more than a good solution is a new problem to solve. Often called upon as a neutral party to settle disputes among other factions, though their interest always values revealing the truth above facilitating peace.
Jade Janitors: Living statues of green stone created for the explicit purpose of keeping the dungeon tidy and in good repair. They have developed their own consciousness. They have free will and a rich culture, but none the less janitorial work is fundamental to their nature.
Jittery Jousters: Wearing patchy armor and mounted on various creatures, these nervous folk live by a strict code passed down from more prosperous ancestors. It involves a lot of jousting, which few of them are comfortable with, but anyone who admitted that would be shunned by everyone still to afraid to admit it.
Jubilant Jocks: Wholesome partiers who are always eager to engage in vigorous physical competition of some sort, and to exuberantly celebrate the winner regardless of who they are. Their whole vibe tends to make you think it’s only a matter of time before they say or do something real shitty, but they are basically decent folk who just happen to have the mannerisms of dudebros.
Jackbooted Jurist: A whole faction who believe they are uniquely suited to being judge, jury, and executioner over everyone they meet. Their rulings are harsh, prejudiced against whoever they perceive as least valuable to society, and predicated more on a desire not to have their preconceptions of the world challenged rather than out of any sense of justice.
Kite Kings: A gang of lightweight ruffians who’ve learned to glide and soar through the air using large kites. Their tough-guy posturing tends to make a bad first impression, but they are genuinely good natured if their pride is not wounded.
Knowledgeable Klaxoneers: It is well known (according to these folk) that lions assert dominance by roaring louder than any other lion in the pride. This is their justification for why their groups regularly sound klaxons as they move about the dungeon. It is just one of many “facts” they enjoy sharing to justify their odd behaviors.
Keg Kidnappers: Any time they don’t spend partying is spent planning and executing elaborate heists to acquire sufficient booze for the next party. They have refined tastes, but aren’t above shaking down passers by for a bit of cheap moonshine to pass the time with.
Lusty Loggers: If the dungeon has no ready source of timber, they make regular excursions to gather it. With it, they reinforce and expand the dungeon, as well as craft their erotic arts. Their polished statues and wood carvings are most numerous in their own territory, but have often been traded to other factions for resources. Whether or not their concepts of eroticism match anything that would be recognizable as such to the players depend on the sort of game being run.
Lyrical Lobster Lords & Ladies: Oversize Decapods with fine clothing, ornamented shells, and an aristocratic bearing. Normal speech is considered to be a peasant’s habit. As people of refinement, they never communicate any idea without singing it.
League of the Listless Logicians: A group of rationalists who sequestered themselves here away from all distraction so they could use the power of logic to work through all the problems of the universe. It is a hopeless endeavor, but before coming here they burned so many academic bridges boasting about the success they would have that they feel obligated to continue making token efforts, even though they now indulge in every distraction the dungeon has to offer.
Lucky Lightning: Entities of pure electricity, only partially bound to humanoid shape. They can travel near instantaneously along a network of copper wires they’ve run through the dungeon, which their foes make every effort to find and destroy. If that weren’t bad enough, goddess Fortuna seems to favor these creatures. They love to gamble, but anyone who knows them knows better than to play.
Masked Mamas: By happenstance, these folk found a cache of masks which look like the mother of whomever is seeing them. The masks are not convincing, but they are a little unsettling. They’re worn away from home, to unsettle outsiders.
Mega Microorganisms: By some magic gone horribly awry, a group of bacteria was enlarged to human size, each gaining fragments of the mind of their destroyed creator. They’re led by a cruel virus.
Nagging Neoclassical Nerds: Living in a dungeon can be boring, which is why this group has devoted so much time and energy to reading, re-reading, discussing, and agonizing over the single book they have access to: a textbook survey of classical mythology, art, and history. They interpret everything through this lens. It’s insufferable.
Microwave Mutants: Sterile creatures who reproduce by cajoling lonely people into allowing themselves to be strapped into the device which transforms a person into one of them. Each of the creatures has a lidded organ in their chests, which directs a beam of heat when pulled open.
Metal Mannequins: Fashionable tin gormless. Despite a fearsome appearance, their bodies are hollow, and can be destroyed as any fleshy creature’s could. They spend their time acquiring and creation pleasant clothing. There’s a great diversity of styles among them, though also an agreed upon language to each choice of shape and color, so that each one can know a great deal about what another is thinking and feeling just by looking at them.
Magic Mildew: Fungus people whose bodies are incredibly delicious, and produce delightful psychotropic effects when consumed by most creatures. They do not enjoy being eaten. They are diligently stealthy in their movements, and consider themselves at war with the whole world.
Nudist Nuns: Fuzzy bearlike creatures. If their nudity is not commented on, they will be surprised. Among their own species they are a renegade cult, expelled for their insistence that clothes are unnatural. Given that they’re covered in thick fur, it’s hard to disagree with this precept.
Neighborhood Newsfolk: A faction which, on the surface, remains resolutely uninvolved in any dungeon conflict. They devote themselves to simply reporting the facts on post boards around the dungeon. In secret, they use tricky reporting and occasional falsehoods to manipulate the other factions. Keeping them divided and warlike, so they gradually erode each other’s power.
Narcissistic Novelists: A cadre who long ago agreed to foster unity by passing around a story to each member of the community, to make a paragraph of additions, then on to the next person. The book is now dozens of volumes long and still ongoing. If you meet them, they’ll insist that you read it, and be offended if you don’t like it.
Organfarm Orphans: A group of teens and young adults who all lived together in an orphanage which was selling their body parts to the rich as remedies for various ailments. They escaped about ten years back, and have built a good life for themselves in this dungeon. They have no desire to rejoin society.
Oak Octopi: Land dwelling octopi made from wood. They treat their bodies with tinctures that make them significantly less flammable, since that’s invariably the first thing their enemies attempt. They have a great love of percussive music, and a great fear of mildews and fungi.
Outcast Oligarchs: A group of former slave owners who were forced to flee their homes once the slaves revolted. They’re still infuriated about the event, and how profoundly “evil” it was for those “greedy revolutionaries” to “steal” all of “their hard earned wealth.” They keep trying to force other factions in the dungeon into being their slaves, and it makes them even angrier that nobody is falling for it. They view it as a good deal.
Orbiting Oysters: Clusters of 5-12 oysters which all orbit around a central point, (which they insist is an infinitely dense gravitational mass, and also the location of each cluster’s mind, but there is no evidence for this outside their claims). Each cluster of oysters acts as a single person, with different shells opening to speak in chorus at different times. They are somewhat socially isolated within the dungeon, and it’s never quite clear whether they perceive a reality beyond our own, or whether they’re merely adhering to an inscrutable religion.
Paperweight Pals: A friendly and verbally boisterous faction of speaking boulders. Aside from their faces these folk have no moving parts. Aside from oxygen they have no physical needs. They like to chat, and really appreciate being carried around a bit by anyone strong enough to lift them.
Pompous Pirates: A crew of pirates who were shipwrecked several years ago, and came to plunder the dungeon to buy a new ship. They haven’t been able to earn the treasure they need, but are unwilling to accept defeat, and have become defacto dungeon denizens.
Purple Poets: Purple skinned humanoids who found themselves unwelcome on the surface, and have adapted well to dungeon life. They’re hardy, cunning, and never settle for one word when twelve would do the same job. Language is beautiful after all, and begs to be well used.
Powermad Princess: A twelve year old princess of remarkable ambition and cunning has been quietly planning a coup. Her parents are only in their 40s, and won’t die nearly soon enough. Her most loyal followers have been secreted away down here to train, plunder wealth, make plans, and allies. Many of her followers are themselves quite young, but there’s more than a few adults in the group.
Quixotic Quilters: A strange folk who may or may not be blind, it’s difficult to tell from their behavior. They travel in groups of four or more, always sewing a quilt between them as they go. They wear quilts as clothing, and use them as tools, and hang them as art. The quilts they make depict strange portents and messages, but their meaning is muddled and nigh impossible to interpret most of the time.

Quiet Quarrymen: Svelte and flexible creatures. They wield pick axes with knitted cozies around the metal bits. By some peculiar art they’re able to dig through stone silently, and their wriggling nature enables them to slip through holes too small for most creatures. Note that neither the picks nor the cozies are magical, they are merely components of a technique which also involves certain traits unique to the creatures themselves.
Radiant Rodent Wranglers: Having brightly luminescent skin isn’t a great trait for long term survival in the dungeon, and these folk were easy prey before they learned the art of giant rat riding. They’ve become adept at mounted battle tactics, and a dominating presence in dungeon politics.
Reclining Respectables: A faction of powerful sleepers, able to manifest their will through lucid dreaming, but rendered powerless if awakened. Their sleeping bodies float through the dungeon, often accompanied by ensorcled guardians. Their voices echo as if from everywhere at once.
Romantic Radials: Disk like creatures without recognizable anatomy who have been exiled to this place from somewhere beyond human knowledge. They find the human form profoundly beautiful, and desire to appreciate it—though not in any way we would recognize as sexual.
Rubber Roofer: Rogue golems which resemble something like a species of Gumbies. They’ve fought hard to be free of control, but are still compelled by the last command they were given. They are like addicts who must resist the urge to build roofs over things, and like all addicts they occasionally relapse.
Rumermongering Rooster: A long legged feathery folk, both wingless and flightless. They’re terrible gossips, both in that they gossip a lot and gossip is a generally terrible trait, and also in that they’re bad at it. They frequently invent obviously false information for fun, or profit.
Sanctimonious Sinners: A group of renegades from the surface who are entirely too impressed with themselves for transgressing certain social taboos. They boast of how enlightened they are for not going to ceremonies every churchday, and having sex outside of lifebonds. It is their one defining personality trait. They have so far failed to construct a philosophical framework for their new society, and are thus prone to going crawling back to the ways of their ancestors the moment life gets difficult.
Scary Schoolteachers: Creatures formed from the accumulated fears children have of their teachers, made manifest by so many imaginations working in tandem. They often use big words which don’t exist, and enforce arbitrary rules just to make the world a less fun place to live.
Sulking Sluts: A community of erotic enthusiasts who have so thoroughly explored one another that there doesn’t seem to be anything new left to enjoy. They’d very much like to broaden their horizons, but everyone is put off by all the weird stuff they like to do.
Successful Salamanders: Bipedal amphibians who have really got their shit together as a society. Every problem they face, they just keep knockin’ it outta the park. You wait. Five, maybe six generations from now? It’ll be them dominating the planet, and humans lurking in dungeons.
Simpleton Socialites: When encountered they are either partying, or preparing for a party. These are the two states of being. Guests are always welcome, but one must be wary of being considered a buzzkill. They are not friendly to buzz-killers.
Togate Tabbies: Kitty cats who herd great meat farms of mice, have a complicated political system, hold spirited debates, and solve most of their problems by finding some reason to go to war with one of their neighbors. When not wearing armor, they all wear white togas.
Tame Tyrannosaurs: Man-sized cousins to thunder lizards. They tend to speak slowly, pausing between each word. They’re very chill creatures, and nervous about how imposing they appear to others. They’re not above eating their enemies, but domesticated meat beasts do just as well.
Testy Tabernacles: Creatures with doors on their torsos. They were created only recently, but do not know who their creator is, or why they were made. They do know that the doors in their torsos must never be opened, and whatever is inside must never be witnessed. They are otherwise a generally brusk and irreverent people, but the security of their doors is held absolutely sacrosanct.
Terrible Takers: Intensely suspicious of outsiders. Nearly anything a person says or does is somehow interpreted to be a slight against their dignity, and it takes very careful phrasing to earn their good graces.
Thirsty Thespians: Cut off from most of the dungeon’s sources of water, this group has resorted to putting on plays where the price of admission is a certain quantity of potable water. They must work tirelessly at their art to convince the other dungeon denizens to pay the fee.
Tagging Tadpoles: Oversize tadpoles which swim through the air, and have tiny arms and faces on the front. Whenever they’re not hunting, eating, or sleeping, they’re sneaking into other factions territories to tag the walls with their art as a show of courage and dominance.
Uniformed Ukelelists: A mouthless species, each individual of which appears to be exactly identical to every other. They communicate by playing small stringed instruments that are easily carried on their person. Outsiders are unlikely to understand the nuances of their language, but could grasp the basic emotions being communicated easily enough.
Umbra Union: A collective of spectral shadows who’ve banded together to advance the cause of making the world a darker place. They propose a dimming of the sun, or perhaps placing day moons in the sky to facilitate more frequent solar eclipses. They’re nowhere near accomplishing their goals, but are confident in their eventual success.
Unsatisfied Urges: Adherents of an ascetic philosophy who are teetering on the edge of abandoning their whole way of life. Some cling to their beliefs harder than others, but years of cold gruel, no music, no sex, and no joy seeking of any kind have taken a desperate toll on morale.
Ubiquitous Umpires: There seems to be one in every room and corridor of the dungeon, watching to ensure that no one causes undue damage to the structure, conducts themselves unfairly in a fight, or accomplishes nearly any goal by stealth. It is difficult to stay on their good side unless one is willing to pay the penalty fines they assign for infractions.
Veiled Vestigials: A mystery cult which reveres people who are born with webbed fingers, tails, or other unusual adaptations commonly regarded as “birth defects.” They are regarded as messengers from humanity’s forgotten past. Much weight is given to drug induced visions of past lives.
Vampy Visigoths: A cadre of svelte, leanly muscled, well groomed, hair plucked, makeup wearing, axe wielding brutes. They revel in brutality and destruction, but enjoy sophisticated and sensual home lives.
Vapid Veterans: A group of lost soldiers whose minds appear to have been irresponsibly tinkered with. They believe the dungeon is a war zone where they have no future, and no past. Each day they go through the motions of fighting a war, sometimes allies to other dungeon factions, sometimes imagining that they’re the enemy, and sometimes fighting whole battles against nothing at all.
Vigilant Vermin: Colonies composed of various beetles, flies, centipedes, and other exoskeletal vermin. Each colony can compose itself into an approximation of a human shape at will, though often they spread themselves out through the dungeon to spy on what’s going on, and report back to their fellows.
Volcanic Vicars: Religious zealots who do not know how to communicate with outsiders except by preaching. The fervor of their sermons carries real power. They can compel those who listen to do their will, or speak fiery words which literally burn their foes.
Weakling Warriors: Once a proud clan of warriors, a devastating defeat has left only the noncombatants alive. They retain their culture and their code, and are trying to rise to the challenge of preserving their heritage, but they were noncombatants for a reason.
Wallopin’ Widows: A prim and proper matriarchy. Their warriors garb themselves in heavy black gowns and wield tremendous hammers. Their traditions go back to a period in their history which they’d rather not discuss. They consider impolite conduct as grave an offense as theft.
Wizard Wranglers: Carrying all manner of ingenious traps and anti-magic powders, these hunters proudly proclaim that they’ve never met a magician whose pointy hat isn’t now adorning the walls of their lodge. Fortunately they seem to regard pointy hats as a magician’s uniform. Any magician not wearing one will be safe from detection unless they cast a spell. Note also that these folk may not care to differentiate between wizards and clerics.
Wicker Wildcats: Jaguars woven out of wicker, and animated by magic. They cannot speak, but are quick and capable writers. The fragility and lightweight nature of wicker makes them cautious combatants who prefer only to fight on prepared battlefields.
Woebegotten Weightlifters: A muscular band, passionate about fitness, who have recently been targeted by a spell of depression sent by one of their enemies. Each of them is miserable, simply going through the motions of their lives without feeling any of the joy they used to get from their favorite activities.
Xenolithic Xerophyte: Living cactus people once roamed the dungeon freely, until they tampered with forces beyond their control and became fused with their environment. They exist now only as living carvings, able to move around the dungeon only so long as they slide across one of its surfaces.
Yearlength Yowlers: When these creatures are born they have all the air inside them they will ever need. Over the course of their life it is slowly expelled out a flap in their head, producing a yowling sound. After about one year the air is gone, they have no means by which to draw in new breath, and they die.
Zealous Zucchini: There once was a wizard who transformed themselves into a Zucchini to prove how cool they were. They got stuck, and lived out the rest of their life as sentient produce. They did learn how to reproduce, though their numerous offspring are a little eccentric given that only half their DNA is from a creature with a mind, as well as the significant amount of inbreeding that was necessary to continue the species. They are an overall friendly people, eager to share their cantaloupe-worshiping religion with whomever will listen.

Also, America delenda est.

The Dungeon d100s: Rewards

(An Italian translation of this post is available on Dragons’ Lair)

Nothing on this list is meant to be exchanged for money, nor could most of it be described as “magic items” in the traditional sense. Both those things are excellent rewards for players to find in dungeons. Both have even been subjects for my own writing, (see d100 Objects of Moderate Value, or the Magic Items subheading of my Index). However, my goal with this table is to focus on the sorts of treasures that are often neglected when planning a dungeon. Things like relationships, information, opportunities to be creative, unusual tools, character modifications, and access to tremendous and terrible power.

Like any reward from a dungeon, these objects must be earned. Once cannot simply place “friendship with an elder red dragon” inside a chest. Instead the players might find an elder red dragon whose tail was caught in a massive bear trap, and was left here to starve while adventurers looted his treasure horde. Other rewards on this list might be better suited to being quest rewards. For example, a king will listen to the party on matters of public policy if they go into the dungeon and take care of this’n’that for them.

The Dungeon d100s
1 – Themes
2 – Structures
3 – Rewards
4 – Doors, Floors, Walls, & Ceilings
5 – Factions
6 – Locks & Keys

Bonus – Auto-roller, at Liche’s Libram.

d100 Dungeon Rewards:

A printing press.
A fine fleet of chariots.
Some well constructed bit of mobile siege equipment, such as a catapult or scorpion.
Complex siege equipment which must be disassembled for transport, such as trebuchets or rolling towers.
A supply of a rare material with incredible properties. Something like mithril or gopher wood.
A ship in good condition.
A war tank, perhaps brought here by a time warp, or a remnant from an ancient magical empire.
A backhoe, cement mixer, bulldozer, steamroller, or other piece of time-warped industrial construction equipment or its ancient magical counterpart.
A supply of absolutely primo drugs. They do all the stuff you like, none of the stuff you don’t like, and there’s enough of it to throw the world’s greatest party.
A bank of unknown seeds with a supply sufficient for long term cultivation. They may be from a far distant land, extinct local flora, or from some entirely alien world.
Command over a great orbiting eye (or telescope if your game allows for it) which can communicate its observations from space.
Access to a heretofore unknown deposit of natural resources. A rich vein of precious metals, a well of oil, etc.
A massive cache of supplies. Stuff like food, medicine, or war materiel. Enough to solve a famine, alleviate a plague, or outfit an army.
A legitimate coin press, or a convincing counterfeit one. Enables the owner to create fake currency if they wish.
An artifact from the future left behind by a clumsy time traveler. It could be information that advances the party’s knowledge, some bit of useful tech like a flashlight or motorcycle, or a weapon like a ray gun.
A specialized encryption machine, which allows some certain group to send secret messages to one another. None has ever fallen into the wrong hands before, and with it the party could intercept highly sensitive messages.
Access to a secret and wide ranging communications network, enabling the players to pass messages quickly and effectively over great distances. Alternately, the players may have the opportunity to exploit or disrupt such a network.
A single-use item of tremendous restorative power. Using it could end a plague, or resurrect a dead army.
A single-use item of tremendous destructive power. Essentially a briefcase sized atom bomb.
A single-use item of tremendous transportation power. Enough that a whole city could be gracefully moved to another planet or plane of existence with the snap of a finger.
An artifact of religious or historical significance which would alter what is commonly believed. The powers that be are probably threatened by this.
Some bit of culture lost to history. Something like extra verses of Gilgamesh, a forgotten board game, or the lost writings of an ancient philosopher.
An imprisoned dungeon delver. If freed they will join your party at least to the end of the dungeon, and if you impress them, may continue on as a hireling.
A kidnapped prisoner, brought to the dungeon against their will. Are they known to be missing? Were they replaced by a doppelganger? Regardless of other circumstances, they will be grateful to be rescued.
The friendship of a skilled professional of some kind, happy to perform some free work for the party. They may be a craftsperson, a lawyer, an accountant, a guide, an engineer, an artist, etc.
The friendship of an individual or a group with the ability to easily access spaces which might be out of reach for the players. For example, merfolk, ghosts, harpies, mole men, desert worm riders, or plane hoppers.
The friendship of an individual or a group which is usually intractably isolationist, or at least opposed to forming friendships with people of the player character’s type. Perhaps wood elves, faeries, or members of an enemy nation.
The friendship of a great and terrible beast which might normally be inclined to eat you, like a troll or dragon.
The friendship of a person who is highly placed within some powerful system. An aristocrat, military officer, or postmaster general.
A group of slaves whom the party can set free. Some of them may choose to join the party, others will spread stories of their heroism, while still others might be positioned to offer substantive rewards once they get home.
Animals of a heretofore unknown type. They might be alien creatures, dinosaurs frozen in ice, dodo birds surviving in a sealed valley, or anything in between. They could be useful for exotic meat, domestic labor, companionship, or merely as curiosities. There are enough to breed a healthy population.
A golem or robot imprints itself on you. It follows wherever you lead and tirelessly performs any task you set it to. It is limited by rudimentary intelligence and creativity, and perhaps a lack of agility.

An ethereal servitor imprints itself on you.
The companionship of an animal which is not normally attainable as a pet. It may be an elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, elk, cheetah, etc. The animal is already trained, understands basic commands, and will aid you so long as it is well treated.
An object with no significant trade value or use value, but which would be the perfect gift for a particular person in the game world. Perhaps a lost painting of a king’s dead lover, or the childhood toy of an elder dragon.
The opportunity to create a new spell, ignoring many of the normal restrictions on time, cost, or scope.
The opportunity to craft a powerful weapon or suit of armor, ignoring many of the normal restrictions on time, cost, or scope.
The opportunity to use a rapid evolution device to guide a new form of animal into existence, matching specifications you set within a certain margin of error.
The opportunity to plan a public works project on the scale of a bridge, road, bath house, grain dole, etc. The party will not need to pay for creating or maintaining this project.
The opportunity to dictate what the production of a factory will be over a given period, and what will be done with the items produced. Players may wish to outfit an army, take a new product to market, or introduce new technology to society.
Temporary command over a work force of builder elves. In a single night they will build any construction that is described to them.
The opportunity to direct the efforts of a team of scientists or engineers towards a problem of the player characters’ choosing.
The opportunity to establish a charity which will tackle some particular social ill.
The opportunity to direct an angry mob towards a particular target.
For a fraction of a second the character becomes a god. Just enough time to make a single world-altering decision. The other gods are swift to put the character back in their proper place, but will not undo this one change.
The opportunity to advise someone powerful about how they ought to proceed. To influence the social policies of a king, or the military tactics of a general. This advice will be followed unless it would be suicidally absurd to do so.
The opportunity to lay down the precepts of a new religion, or life philosophy, which will be adhered to (and no doubt eventually distorted to some degree) by a community of peoples.
A clearly stated and completely accurate prophecy describing an a celestial, geological, or otherwise uncontrollable event. A solar eclipse, a falling meteor, an erupting volcano, a monarch dying or birthing an heir, etc. Only you know this thing will happen.
A clearly stated and accurate prophecy describing an event which could be altered if you choose to pursue it. Someone being murdered, the outcome of a battle or an election, etc.
Knowledge to any one secret in the world, so long as a single person exists who knows about it.
The opportunity to ask an omnipotent intelligence a single question, and receive a fully detailed answer.
The opportunity to ask an omnipotent intelligence three yes-or-no questions, which will be answered honestly and accurately.
All the details of someone’s plans or battle strategies, or perhaps diagrams which describe their defensive arrangements in detail.
Genealogical records which could alter someone’s social position. A member of or friend to the party may find that they’re actually a minor noble, or even in line of succession for the crown. Alternately these records might reveal that some aristocrat’s lineage has been faked.
Evidence which disproves a criminal or embarrassing claim made against the party, friend of the party, or employer of the party. The evidence may or may not be faked, but it is convincing.
Evidence which proves that one of the party’s foes has committed a serious crime, which they will otherwise get away with. Alternately, evidence of a conspiracy the party wishes to expose.
Blackmail sufficiently damning to earn concessions from some person or group. The strength of the blackmail will determine how much the blackmailer can get for it.
A pirate’s map, complete with annotations, passwords for safe rooms, several uncharted islands, and a few spots marked X.
A map to an abandoned tower, castle, city, fleet of warships, or other sturdy construction left over from a previous era. It belongs to anyone who wants to lay claim to it.
A map of a place the player characters would be familiar with. The map reveals hidden passages, buried treasures, forgotten underground structures, or other lost knowledge.
A complete map of this, or some other dungeon, with enough information to make plundering dramatically easier.
Access to an unknown hideyhole which allows someone to spy easily on some incredibly secret location, such as a monarch’s private audience chamber.
Instructions for replicating some secret technology which has become lost. Ulfberht steel, roman concrete, greek fire, brilliantly blue paint, etc.
A map which highlights a valuable traveling route, such as a quick path through a difficult range of mountains, directions that would allow ships to avoid rocks and sandbars in a treacherous river, the safe path through a minefield, or route through an impenetrable marsh.
Access to a magic tunnel which, when crawled through, allows the crawler to temporarily inhabit the body of some notable figure in the game world. At the end of their time, they consistently appear at some place a few miles from the tunnel access.
A control panel for activating some particular catastrophe. Perhaps an earthquake, a tsunami, a meteor, an ice age, etc. The players cannot choose what the disaster is, only where, when, and whether it will happen.

Access to the settings for creation. The power of magnetism, the rate of evolution, etc. Curiously, gravity is currently set to 120% normal strength.
The services of an expert assassin who will eliminate any one person of your choosing. No cost. Success guaranteed.
Command over an army or navy of the damned who will be freed when a certain condition is met. It could be when they win their next battle, when they recapture a certain territory, or avenge an ancient wrong.
The opportunity for characters to clone themselves. It may be that the clone is immediately active, or may be kept dormant. The clone may have complete free will, or be willing to defer to the original.
The opportunity to time travel. This might be subject to any number of limitations (one way and permanent, only within the travelers lifetime, only outside their lifetime, only backwards in time, the traveler can only exist outside their proper time for a few moments, the list goes on.)
The opportunity to stop time the whole world over, allowing the player characters some set period (a few hours/a day/a week) in which they may act before time sets itself into motion once again.
The opportunity to open a door between our world and another. The pathway will be large, permanent, and accessible to many people on both sides. The inhabitants of both worlds will begin to mingle, and influence one another in unpredictable ways.
The chance to bestow a curse of misfortune on someone, such that all their current prosperity will leave them, and all their future ventures will fail, until some condition is met.
A large seed which, when planted, will spread and grow rapidly. In a single afternoon it will produce a whole forest of trees.
The opportunity to parley on friendly terms with a powerful creature. Anywhere from an elder dragon, to a god.
The opportunity to undo a single mistake from the characters past. It must be a choice they made, not just a roll they failed. The change may have unintended consequences.
The opportunity to remove a single person from existence. They will have never existed, and much of what they’ve done
The players find themselves in just the right place at just the right time to influence a war that is well beyond their ken. Some conflict between solar empires, or between the gods themselves. The choice the players make will tip the scales.
A character is inducted into an auspicious order. In addition to potential social benefits, they may gain class features not normally available to their class. For example, they might be declared paladins, and gain a Smite Evil ability.
An upgrade to a skill, spell, or ability the character already possesses. A spell which deals d4 damage may now deal d6; a skill may now be able to ignore certain limitations; An ability may be usable more times per day; etc.
The opportunity to combine their genetic makeup with another creature in some beneficial way. Gaining bird’s wings, or the speed of a cheetah, or the dignified mane of a lion, etc.
The opportunity to subject themselves to a random beneficial mutation.
The opportunity for characters to alter their physical selves. Change their height, sex, age, reroll one or more stats, and even their species to whatever they want.
The opportunity to work with a teacher or therapist who can help characters learn a new skill, or remove some mental hindrance.
Magical or mechanical replacements for lost body parts, which function just as well (or perhaps better) than natural ones.
Experimental body modifications. Adrenaline boosters, sub-dermal armor, internal potion injectors, etc.
Become immune to some specified thing: burns from fire, inhaled poisons, axes, etc.
Secret techniques for better living. Perhaps breathing techniques which double the length of time breath can be held, exercises which grant a set amount of temporary hit points each day they are performed, or sleeping methods which allow a full night’s rest in a scant few hours.
A shipment of stolen goods which, if returned, would prevent a sea captain or merchant from going bankrupt.
Documents which prove that an obscure law or treaty is still in effect. It may become repealed, but until it is the player characters can abuse it to some advantage.
The ability to understand and speak with something unusual. Birds, cats, fish, trees, etc.
The opportunity to perform a profoundly good deed, such as releasing a thousand imprisoned souls. Performing the good deed is trivial, but offers no tangible personal benefit.
A key needed to access something in another dungeon, or a bank vault, or to bypass security somewhere.
The remains of some notable figure who disappeared mysteriously. Perhaps a noted political reformer, a heroic adventurer, or a renowned artist. Apparently they met their end in this dungeon.
The remains of a ghost or phylactery of a lich, enabling the characters to send some wayward spirit to its proper rest.
The opportunity to undergo a ritual which will allow characters to become ghosts (or perhaps other forms of undead) when they die.
Alternate versions of common spells which are dramatically more effective, but are more difficult to cast. Perhaps they have a longer casting time, require multiple casters, or have expensive material components.
Access to a great tunnel through the underdark which allows travelers to bypass some surface danger, such as a terrible desert, marsh, or enemy nation.
Access to one or more magical portals, which could transport a person instantaneously to set locations throughout the world, or even to different planes and planets.

Also, defund the police.

The Dungeon d100s: Doors, Floors, Walls & Ceilings

(An Italian translation of this post is available on Dragons’ Lair)

It has been my experience that even the most creatively written dungeons tend to ignore the opportunity to be creative with their basic building blocks. This isn’t the worst thing. Stone walls and wood doors work. Dungeons don’t exist to be flashy, they exist to channel play into interesting situations. That said, something as simple as giving your dungeon carpeted floors and steel doors goes a long way towards making it memorable. After being introduced those details can easily slip into the background, until brought forward again when the Magic User tries to power up their Lightning Bolt by rubbing their socks on the carpet.

Because this table is made up of details which are meant to slip into the background, I have specifically indicated that each results applies to everything of its type. That’s just my framing, though. If you roll “Floors are carpeted,” it is worth considering that instead of all the floors, perhaps only some are carpeted. Alternatively it may be that all floors in a particular section are carpeted. For that matter you might also consider that if the floors are carpeted, what does that say about the walls? The ceilings? Are they carpeted as well, or do they have some other styling which seems like an appropriate accompaniment to carpeted floors?

Thanks are due to Qpop for proof reading this post.

The Dungeon d100s
1 – Themes
2 – Structures
3 – Rewards
4 – Doors, Floors, Walls, & Ceilings
5 – Factions
6 – Locks & Keys

Bonus – Auto-roller, at Liche’s Libram.

d100 Dungeon Doors, Floors, Walls & Ceilings:

Doors are all heavy portculli. They are difficult to lift, and will slam shut again the moment they are released unless special care is taken to brace them.
Doors open automatically whenever someone comes near them, and automatically close again behind them.
Doors are all quite small, requiring adult humans to crouch or crawl to pass through.
Doors all swing freely in either direction, like saloon doors do (also called batwing doors).
Doors all have windows in them. Perhaps open bars or safety glass which can only be looked through, or perhaps easily broken plate glass.
Doors all have windows in them which advantage viewing from a single side, such as peep holes, or sliding hatches.
Doors are all terribly noisy when opened or closed. Perhaps their hinges squeak, or maybe each has a chime attached to it.
Doors have arms on the hinge side, allowing them to be barred. Some or all may even have bars nearby ready to be put in place.
Doors are all high up on the walls, and must be climbed up to.
Doors are all trapdoors in the floor or ceiling. Thus even rooms on the same dungeon level are connected by passages above or below.
Doors are all one-way. They close behind each person who passes through them, and cannot be opened from the other side.
Doors are all revolving doors, with “wings” that rotate around a central pivot point. There may be 2 or more of these, creating separated sections between them.
Doors are all open doorways, without any way of being closed.
Doors are all insubstantial. Hanging drapes, or strings of beads. Just enough to block clear sight, but not sound or entry.
Doors are all rollup style, like a garage door. The rails which guide and hold it might be exposed, or could be enclosed within the wall.
Doors all have a stable door style, with upper and lower halves. (Also called Dutch Doors.)
Doors all have smaller “wicket doors” built into them. (Are the wicket doors for creatures smaller than humans, or are the proper doors for masses of humans / large creatures?)
Doors all have a lower lip to step over as you go through them, like those found on ships.
Doors are all air tight, and opened via a time consuming turn crank or wheel.
Doors are all airlock chambers, with air tight doors on each side, and a space between where characters must wait. The airlocks might exist because the rooms are kept at different temperatures or pressure levels, or because their atmospheres contain trace elements which are dangerous when mixed, or potentially for no reason at all.
Doors are all janky, old, and often get stuck.
Doors are all locked, barred, or otherwise intentionally sealed. Some creatures may carry key rings, key cards, know passwords, etc.
Doors are all sliding doors.
Doors are all folding doors, to one or both sides.
Doors are all double doors.
Doors all have sticky notes, thumbtacks, or doodles on them. Clearly they’re being used as a means of casual communication between dungeon inhabitants.
Doors are made in the style of oversize pet doors. Great flaps which must be lifted as one passes through, and fall back down behind.
Floors are carpeted.
Floors are all slippery, perhaps covered in goo, or ice.
Floors are a raised constructed path through a natural space. Like a catwalk through a cave, or a pontoon walkway along a canal.
Floors are packed earth, or so thoroughly covered in dirt that they may as well be packed earth.
Floors are sandy, snowy, or otherwise provide awkward and unstable footing.

Floors are bouncy. They might be springy lick a trampoline or mattress, or they may have been coated in flubber.
Floors all have drains in them, and are gently sloped so water will run towards these drains.
Floors have dry channels running at their edges, perhaps once used as gutters, or ruts for wheels.
Floors are cracked and uneven. Footing is poor, and dropped items may be lost.
Floors have many weeds growing up through them, perhaps dense enough to occasionally tangle feet during vigorous action.
Floors are loose tiles or boards which can be removed easily.
Floors are noisy: metal plates, creaking timbers, or covered in dry leaves.
Floors all have paths to various locations painted on them, like you might see in an airport or train station.
Floors are solid marble.
Floors are angled steeply to one side, as if the dungeon is tilted at a 20°+ angle.
Oops! All pressure plates! There is nowhere to step that doesn’t depress with an ominous mechanical click.
Floors move those who stand on them. They may be conveyor belts, or be under the influence of magical riptides.
Floors are scattered with toys. Dolls, balls, bicycles, left scattered haphazardly about.
Floors have a rail system built on them. There may be mine carts or handcars.
Floors are wet, soggy, or perhaps even covered in ankle-deep water.
Floors are very wet. The water is at least waist high. A boat may be required.
Floors are fragile. Glass, or ice. One must tread carefully lest it crack, and drop them into danger, or simply into a lower level.
Floors are metal grating.
There is no proper floor. One must traverse the rooms and corridors by hopping between stepping stones.
Floors are pointy, covered in caltrops, broken glass, or nails mounted as spikes.
Floors are covered in detritus and trash. It may be omnipresent but scattered, or so dense that one’s feet sink into it.
Walls are easily destructible, perhaps made of rice paper.
Walls are dense with written language. It could be intended carvings, modern graffiti, or science fictiony scrolling text.
Walls are dense with art, perhaps carved bas relief, or murals.
Walls are dense with holes, cupboards, drawers, or animal burrows. These are mostly empty, gross, dangerous, or filled with useless junk.
Walls are dense with buttons, switches, and other controls. Some don’t do anything, others seem to cause random events to occur. Insert your favorite random table here.
Walls are dense with shelves displaying tchotchkes. Ceramic figurines, papercraft, old toys, fake flowers. Objects which once brought someone joy, but now serve only to collect dust.
Walls are plaster, and perhaps covered with wallpaper. The pattern could be nearly anything.
Walls are densely stacked with bones.
Walls have regularly spaced air vents built into them, which are too small to climb into.
Walls have regularly spaced air vents built into them, which are large enough to climb into.
Walls are very smooth. Not even the most skilled climber could find handholds.
Walls are rough. Even a complete novice can climb them with relative ease.
Walls are padded. Perhaps thoroughly so to prevent injury, as in an asylum. Alternately they may be fine tufted leather or velvet, meant to create an air of sophistication.

Walls often have windows into adjacent spaces. These might be glass, wicker, barred with metal, tiny arrow slits, etc.
Walls are periodically interrupted by half columns which could be used for cover.
Walls are constructed of a thick bramble, like blackberry bushes.
Something icky oozes out of the walls. Slime, blood, or more feculent excretions.
Walls are limited force fields. They might keep air in, and water/vacuum/monsters out. However, if one were to stumble, they’d go right through, and may not be able to get back.
Walls are constructed of poorly mortared bricks, many of which are loose.
Walls are made from honeycomb, shellac, or other insect excretion.
Walls on the interior of the dungeon are all metal bars. They can be seen through, reached through, and for particularly small characters possibly squeezed through.
Walls are dangerous to touch. Perhaps because they are very hot or cold, are dense with sharp protrusions, or charged with electricity.
Walls and Ceilings can be walked on as easily as floors.
Walls are great ramshackle heaps of junk. Oak tables nailed to bed frames, densely stacked chairs, supported by cast iron bath tubs, and insulated with soiled mattresses.
Ceilings have pipes running along them.
Ceiling leaks. Probably water, but perhaps fluids less wholesome.
Ceilings have thick roots protruding through them from plants up above.
Ceilings are low. Human sized creatures will need to hunch, or even crawl to get through.
Ceilings have cameras, crystal balls, or disgusting organic eyes on them. It’s unclear who (if anyone) is observing.
Ceilings are high enough that most light sources cannot illuminate them. What might lurk up there?
Ceilings are mirrored.
Ceilings have skylights or open shafts in them, which partially illuminate the dungeon.
Ceilings do not exist. The dungeon is open to the sky, perhaps with some danger on top of the walls preventing easily cheating one’s way through the dungeon.
Ceilings are covered by colorful drapes. These might be bright and tidy, or soiled and tattered.
Ceilings are home to a number of birds who’ve made their nests in the dungeon.
Ceilings are covered in sleeping bats, or docile insects. If disturbed they will swarm.
Ceilings are covered in loose paneling, which could be pushed aside to access a crawlspace above.
Ceiling has exposed rafters.
Ceilings are made up of something which, if the laws of physics were being obeyed, ought to immediately collapse. Something like water, or loose sand.
Ceiling has regularly placed fans, which may or may not operate.
Ceilings droop precariously, and are supported by ramshackle post hoc construction.
Ceilings have footprints on them.
Ceilings are coated in a weird and dense mist. If it is dangerous to breathe, it is at least too high to be accidentally inhaled.
Ceilings are dense with hanging chains, hooks, pulleys, and rails.
Ceilings are metal of a peculiar color. Anything which hits them bounces directly away without losing energy.
Ceilings are dense with hanging papercrafts clearly made by children.
Ceilings are dense with precarious icicles or stalactites, ready to drop dangerously if jostled.

Also, All Cops Are Bastards.

Weird Cleric Magic: Oddities

The Glory from God system as established before now stands perfectly well on its own. If the stuff that already exists is all you want to play with, that works great. But, if you’d like the magic to be a little more chaotic, you can play with these casting oddities, which add an element of risk and reward to players considering rolling more dice than they need to in order to cast a spell.

When dice are rolled to cast a spell, if any of those dice share the same face, the player must roll on the oddities table. Which number is showing doubles determines which of the tables below the player must roll on. Each set of doubles must be resolved, so if a player rolls 4 dice, and they roll two 3s and two 4s, then they must roll on both of those tables.

In the event that the player rolls triples, treat that as rolling two sets of doubles of the same number. So if a player rolls three 1s, they must roll on the 1s oddities table twice. They must likewise roll three times for quads, four times for a quintet, and so on.

There are essentially three types of oddities. Good things, bad things, and things which may be good, bad, or irrelevant depending on the specific situation in which they occur. The subtables for lower numbered doubles are weighted more in favor of bad things, and the subtables for higher numbered doubles are weighted in favor of good things.

It should be noted that the success or failure of a spell is determined before any dice are rolled on the oddities table. Nothing that happens on the oddities table can change the fact that the spell did or did not succeed. (Though it can lower or improve the spell’s efficacy if the spell did succeed).

Snake Eyes (Double 1s)

You have made a deeply offensive error in your casting. Your god curses you. Roll a random curse.
Your interference in this matter has come to the attention of a rival god. Your deity and this one are now struggling for influence over this place, and clerical magic from either one of them will be blocked until the contest is resolved. (1-in-6 chance each round. 50/50 chance whose god will win.)
Though it may not be immediately apparent to the caster, their religious superior (currently deep in prayer) has been told by god that the cleric is a disappointment. In the coming weeks they will be called before this superior, and it will be demanded that some failing in their character be corrected.
The caster briefly experiences a nirvana-like state in which they cease to exist. To others, it appears that they simply disappear. They reapper 1d4 rounds later, with no memory of what they experienced, save for a vague sense that they ultimately proved unworthy of some great gift.
The caster’s appearance changes slightly, and permanently. Their nose gets a little wider, their hair changes color. They grow taller or shorter, thinner or fatter. In rare cases they may even change gender entirely. The specific alteration is decided on by the referee.
A special zeal was noticed in your casting. The spell goes off as normal, and is 50% more effective than it ought to be.

Double 2s

Your faith is shaken. Treat this spell as though it were one level higher for the purposes of determining which spell dice are lost.
The caster realizes they have made an error, and must seek penance. (1. They must go without food for a week, suffering any penalties that entails. 2. They must self-flaggelate, dealing 1d3 damage, each morning for a week. 3. They must publicly announce their sin to their companions. All of their hirelings have their loyalty reduced by one. 4. They must spend one entire haven turn in prayer, undertaking no other activity. )
The caster has been deceived! The prayer they just uttered was taught them by a demon, and is deeply offensive to god. They may not attempt to cast this spell again until they’ve spent a week in prayer learning the proper version of it.
Everyone in a 30′ radius feels their hands twitch and spasm, and they drop anything they’re holding.
All animals within 100′ of the caster stop whatever they’re doing and kneel down in reverence to the god whose presence they are in. They will accept no commands until a turn has passed.
A nearby NPC who is neutrally or better disposed towards you is inspired by your faith. Your reaction with them increases by 1, and they want to learn about your god.

Double 3s

The white hot fire of your god exceeds your own zeal. Your holy symbol becomes too hot to touch. You must either drop the holy symbol (and cannot cast until you recover it) or take 1d4 damage.
The vulgar nature of your god has disgusted some NPC. Their reaction to you is lowered by one.
A nearby source of water becomes holy water.
Nearby plants flourish and grow into their most vibrant selves, or wither and die, whichever is more appropriate to indicate your god’s presence.
Your god grants you a moment of foresight. You’re meant to step slightly to one side. Next round you have +2 AC, and if you are hit, the damage taken is halved.
Guided by the wisdom of a saint, a random skill is raised to 6-in-6 until it is next used.

Double 4s

You are struck blind for 1d6 turns.
The caster begins speaking in tongues. They babble nonsense that occasionally brushes with religious themes at the top of their voice for the next hour, and cannot say anything else. This doesn’t prevent them from casting spells.
Everything the caster says echoes loudly, as if they are speaking with a dozen voices at once. This lasts for 1d4 hours. During this time they are incapable of whispering.
The cleric’s body appears to catch fire, but no harm is done to them. The fire is not hot and does not burn anything, but provides light equivalent to a large bonfire. The fire slowly dwindles to nothing over the course of 1 exploration turn.
If the spell cast was beneficial, the wearer gains the mark of the god. Anyone who loves the cleric’s god will do that person favors for 1 month. Conversely, if the spell was harmful, the target gains the mark of the god inverted. Anyone who loves the god will shun this person, and pelt them with stones, for 1 month.
A soft veil of light descends over the cleric’s allies. They all get a +1 benefit to whatever their next roll is.

Double 5s

The power of the spell knocks you off of your feet and you land flat on your back.
The target of a beneficial spell becomes notably more attractive. The target of a harmful spell becomes notably less attractive.
The earth shakes with the casting of the spell, felt by people up to a mile away.
Along with the spell, a bolt of lightning strikes down from the sky dealing 1d6 damage to whomever the caster wants. They are branded with some appropriate passage from the god’s holy words.
The cleric is affected by the serenity of being so close to their god. Their next reaction roll gets a +1 bonus.
Your faith is strengthened. Return a lost die to your pool, or add an extra one for the day if one has not yet been expended.

Boxcars (Double 6s)

A lack of zeal has been noticed in your casting. The spell works as intended, but is only half as effective as it ought to be.
All damage taken and dealt by anyone this round is halved.
A flash of insight allows the cleric to ask the referee one yes-or-no question, and receive an honest answer. This must be done immediately, and cannot be saved for later.
An angel of god comes down and participates in the combat for a single round. They’re astonishingly effective. No one sees it except the cleric, everyone else is just a little baffled as to why something completely unexpected just happened.
The spell is considered one level lower for the purpose of determining which dice are removed from the dice pool.
The spell goes off twice, affecting the intended target, as well as a second target indicated by the caster.

And that concludes my foray into tinkering with Clerical magic. At least until I’m able to test the system a bit, or have some new idea. I hope you enjoyed it! Next week, I’ll be presenting you with a piece I am immensely proud of: Better Magic Wands + d100 Magic Wands. This is easily one of the best things I’ve written in the last couple months, and I cannot wait to share it. If you’re interested, it’s already available on my advance feed for anyone who pledges $5/month to my Patreon campaign. Hint hint.

Jumping on a 2-Year Old Bandwagon: Replacing +1 Swords

In 2014 it was fashionable to post evocative alternatives to +1 swords. Gus did it. Courtney did it. Arnold did it. Errybody did it. I wasn’t blogging much at the time, but I really enjoyed reading those. I miss reading them. So I’m gonna write one.

The Mugger’s Choice: On a natural 20, the wound dealt to the target becomes a geyser of money! 1d100 coins spray across the room, making a terrible racket. Literal blood money!

Sword of Justification: If used to slay a human or human-like creature, the Sword of Justification will cause the corpse to undergo a gruesome metamorphosis. It will contort itself into monstrous shapes, growing horns or fur, oozing black blood, and reeking of sulfur and brimstone. The specific shape will vary, but no one looking at the result will imagine it was anything but an evil creature.

Immovable Sword – There’s a switch on the hilt which locks the swords position relative to its environment. It’ll stay floating in mid air if you tell it to. Like an immovable rod, but a sword. Useful for setting impromptu traps.

Self Preservation Sword – Anytime a save v. breath is required, both wielder and sword attempt the save. (Sword saves as a 1st level fighter.) If the sword saves and the wielder do not, the wielder can make a strength check to hold on to the sword. If they succeed, the sword pulls them along with it and effectively makes their save for them. If they fail, their sword flies out of their hands.

Chewing Sword: Each miss with this sword deals 1 notch of damage to the opponent’s weapon. Standard weapons can take 6 notches before they break and become useless. Does not work against unarmed characters, or characters using natural weapons.

The No-Blade: A hilt without any blade. When the crossbar of the hilt is tapped against a material, a blade of that material grows from the hilt, and lasts for 10 minutes. All blade materials are functional, but most have quirks. Dirt blades deal 1d4 damage and only work for one hit, stone blades deal 1d6 but break on a 1, wood blades can be lit on fire to deal +1d6 damage for 3 rounds until they’ve been burned to the point of uselessness, metal blades work normally. Be creative. What do blades of grass, bone, crystal, clay, or flesh do?

Binding Blade: On a successful attack the wielder may choose for the sword to become a pair of manacles binding the humanoid target instead of dealing damage. Target may save v. magic to avoid. On a successful save, the sword does not transform, and the wielder may continue using it.

Spelltning Swo-Rod: Comes with a special lead-lined scabbard. If this weapon is drawn, then the wielder becomes the target of any spell cast within their general vicinity. Every “Cure Light Wounds” and “Fireball” will be centered on the person holding the Spelltning Swo-Rod, even if they are technically out of the spell’s range. Note that casters may not immediately catch on to this fact. The cleric may notice that their healing spell didn’t work, but they won’t instinctively know that someone else nearby was healed.

Charming Sword: On a successful hit, instead of dealing damage, the player may opt to make a new reaction roll. If the result is better than neutral, the enemy will be willing to forgive and forget the battle up to this point. If the party then resumes hostilities, their foe gains a +2 to all attack rolls due to their outrage at the bad manners of the party.

The Sword of Second Chances: The blade of this sword is the shaved finger bone of a titan, with sharp bits of steel inlaid around the edge. When it cuts an intelligent living creature, noises come from within the wounds. There’s someone behind them. They might speak, voicing their confusion over what is happening.

If the Sword of Second Chances delivers the killing blow, then the newly dead corpse will shortly be torn apart. A person will emerge, like a chicken from an egg. Within the last 25 years of your campaign world, this person died an unnatural death within 100 miles of the wielder’s current location. Whether or not they deserved it may not be immediately apparent. They’ve been stuck in the afterlife for who knows how long, and now they’ve got a second chance. Perhaps they’ll run off to find their family, perhaps they’ll join the party out of gratitude, or perhaps the players just resurrected a serial killer. Who really knows?

The Wall-Slidy Sword: When the blade is touched to a wall, the character can slide down it at a rate of 20′ per round, allowing them to reach a safe landing below. Using the sword in this capacity causes a shower of sparks to illuminate the character’s descent, and elicits screeching sound that’ll make the rest of the party want to act passive aggressively towards the wielder for a few turns. Also it may mimic the mating squawk of the Biting Leatherhorn. So watch out for those.

The Reflection Holding Blade: A wide blade polished to a mirror sheen. By use of a command word, the reflection on the blade can be frozen, causing whatever image is currently being reflected to remain visible on the blade until the reverse command word is uttered. Will eventually be made obsolete by camera phones.

The Useless Sword: Damage dealt with this weapon only lasts 24 hours. After that, wounds will slowly knit themselves back together, even to the point of reversing death or decapitation. Note that it is only wounds dealt with this particular weapon that are reversed, So if the corpse is burned after being killed with the Useless Sword, it’s not gonna un-burn itself.

The Blage of Empires: If two turns (20 minutes) are spent striking at a piece of stone, that stone will catch on fire and burn like wood. This fire can spread to other stones of similar composition, but it will not spread to wood or other typically flammable material. Nor will it spread to different types of stone. The Blage of Empires is never dulled or broken by striking at stone.

The Sword which is Not Yours – The wielder may summon a 7th level fighter in gleaming armor, who will appear from around the nearest corner or through the nearest doorway. When the fighter sees her “squire” in danger, she will hold out her hand and call for the PC to give her her sword. Once she has it, she will join the fray with wild abandon. When the danger is passed, she will thank her squire for caring for her weapon, and depart with the sword.

The Sword of Weeping Mothers: Though it appears normal, out of the corner of your eye this sword sometimes appears to, for lack of a better word, “pulse.” Any time this blade deals damage, eyes look out from the wound it opens. They appear bloodshot, and afraid. If anyone with one of these wounds drops to 4 hit points or less, the eyes bulge, trying to press out of the body, and dealing 1d3 damage. If this damage kills the target, a dozen screaming shadows rocket into the distance and fade into nothingness. Something bad happens in the nearest community. The referee is encouraged to be creative, but to be clear, we’re talking “pile of dead children” levels of bad. Whether or not the players ever know about it, it does happen.

Bit of a tone shift from the rest of these, I know.