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bewbin

buzzfeeduk

jerryterry

mgs3pe

the-rice-cat-deactivated2021070

oh god this is too much of a mood

animatedtext

dankmemeuniversity

prokopetz

More inadvisable magic items for your D&D campaign (healing edition):

A staff of resurrection that has seemingly unlimited charges, but will only reverse any given cause of death for a particular person once. The staff’s wielder has intuitive knowledge of whether a hypothetical demise would be sufficiently novel to qualify for reversal, and can advise her companions accordingly.

Healing potions that take the form of sugary baked goods. They’re affordable and effective, and their enchantment keeps them just as fresh as if they’d been baked that very day. Unfortunately, their supernaturally delicious aroma cannot be blocked by any barrier, serving as a constant torment to any party that carries them.

An automaton that can repair any injury, but must remove the affected limb – or what remains of it – for cleaning and servicing, a process that takes 1d6 hours. The patient is magically sustained throughout and suffers no ill effects other than being deprived of the use of the limb. Asking it to repair a head or torso wound is not recommended.

An un-sword that, when correctly wielded, can un-wound a target, restoring health and bodily integrity – although no conventional character class is proficient in the un-sword, and so most attempts to make use of it fail. It can also be difficult to locate if misplaced, being an object that can only be described in terms of what it isn’t.

A charm that removes curses and diseases by manifesting them as unusually large frogs, which must be fought and killed in order to effect the cure. The common cold produces an angry toad about the size of a sofa cushion; the death-curse of an ancient lich would yield a very big frog indeed.

othersidhe

I’d try to keep the frogs as pets and inflict them on the enemy.

prokopetz

To be clear, the frog is merely a spiritual manifestation of the targeted affliction. The affliction is not drawn out to become the frog, and the victim remains afflicted until such time as the frog has been dealt with. If you want the cure, you have to fight the frog.

(With some means of speaking with animals and a decent bribe, you might talk the frog into bedeviling someone else, though, thereby transferring the affliction rather than curing it. This won’t necessarily be any easier than beating the frog in a fight – powerful curse-frogs are stubborn! – but it offers an alternative way of dealing with it.)

esoteric-merit

So … kidnap a cancer ward of children, and summon frogs out into the middle of the lich’s army?

prokopetz

You know, it seems to me that once you’ve reached the point of strapping magical amulets to terminally ill children and rocket-sledding them onto battlefields in order to unleash a counteroffensive of cursed murderfrogs against the Skeleton War, that’s not so much exploiting the rules as it is a needlessly roundabout way of declaring yourself as a competing Evil Overlord.

prokopetz

More inadvisable premises for low-level Dungeons & Dragons adventures:

The party has been hired by a local inkeeper to clear a infestation of giant rats out of their basement. Upon investigation, however, the rats demand parley, and produce documents which – they allege – establish that they themselves are the legal owners of the inn. As far as any player character in possession of appropriate skills is able to determine, the documents are genuine.

A group of townsfolk ask the party to liberate them from their terrible wizard-king. When confronted in his private sanctum, the “wizard” breaks down and confesses that he’s a failed apprentice who’s been running a Wizard of Oz scam with the aid of a few minor cantrips. He begs the party not to expose him, claiming that the countryside is home to a band of vicious marauders who’ve only refrained from ravaging the town because they believe he’s the real deal.

The party receives the opportunity to enter themselves into a region-wide martial tournament whose returning champion has promised to bestow her magnificent enchanted blade on anyone who can best her in single combat. The usual tournament shenanigans are afoot, of course, but the true intrigue is that the champion is really just a luckless merchant who’s been possessed by the malicious intelligence of her sword – and it’s looking to trade up to a better host!

A village is afflicted by an apparent curse that’s transforming plants, animals, and eventually people into grotesque monsters. The victims typically aren’t dangerous or hostile – just terribly confused. It’s eventually discovered that a local hedge witch has been improperly disposing of failed personal enhancement potions, and the resulting trasmutative effluvium has tainted the village well.

An evil sorcerer has crafted an army of unstoppable behemoths of iron and bone to rampage through the countryside spreading terror and devastation as a prelude to eventual conquest. However, the sorcerer in question is a member of a very, very small race, so the behemoths are only about three feet tall.