prokopetz:

regurgitation-imminent:

prokopetz:

othersidhe:

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.

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

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.)

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

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.


via  Gridllr.com   —  4000 Likes, no problem!