#d&d cursed item

[rollforimagination]

Cursed Item Idea

Hat of Gold (Cursed)

Desc- yes Sans, the name is a pun on “Heart of Gold” I’m a comedy genius what did you expect? 💅🏻 (I’m cringe)

Description: A hat that every time it is worn for the first time in a day by someone materialise 15 gp in their hands or in their vicinity. From that moment they will be cursed to talk in a strange way by pronouncing the words much longer than needed, marking the accents way more than correct and by also rising their pitch just a bit enough to sound different but not enough to sound like a mouse.

Functionality: Along with the 15 gp, it gives -3 Charisma to anyone who wears the hat, until the curse is lifted after 24 hours from when it was worn for the first time in the day.

Inspiration: the post above ⬆️ @graegrape

i am once again reminded of the fact that toby fox is a genius at comedic pacing

[jhamkul]

Nightstalker’s Mantle, Wondrous item, Very Rare

Spread your wings, become a silent protector of the night. This shoulder cape is crafted from the membrane and body of a giant bat. It is dark and leathery, with a slightly translucent appearance that seems to absorb light. The cape is surprisingly lightweight and flexible, draping over the wearer's shoulders like a shadowy mantle.

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Thank you very much for checking out this new creation! If you want to see more of my content, feel free to visit my Instagram, where I ask for advice, post teasers, and you can vote for my future posts.

[wraith-caller]

Fia is a Tarnished called to grace without having first experienced death, which may be something of a rarity. Melina tells us some of Marika's words across 2 different churches, the Third Church and the Church of Pilgrimage:

My Lord, and thy warriors. I divest each of thee of thy grace. With thine eyes dimmed, ye will be driven from the Lands Between. Ye will wage war in a land afar, where ye will live, and die.

Then, after thy death, I will give back what I once claimed. Return to the Lands Between, wage war, and brandish the Elden Ring. Grow strong in the face of death. Warriors of my lord. Lord Godfrey.

That indicates that Tarnished get their Grace back only after dying. The opening cinematic does a little to corroborate this. Hoarah Loux is impaled by arrows, the Dung Eater is being hung, and Gideon Ofnir is in his casket. Goldmask is a little more ambiguous, but given the others are dead, and the way he's sort of splayed out on the ground with his prayer book and other items in disarray around him, it seems like he could have fallen dead abruptly.

Fia is the only one that is unambiguously alive. She is sitting up, actively looking at the sight of Grace, and she tells us she was exiled from home for seeing it. So it's very interesting that she is very devoted to and at peace with death, when she may be one of the few Tarnished to never have died to begin with.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Brother Humble, the Unlikely Usurper

Your party has been hired to escort a delivery to a monestary high in the mountains, not the most glorious job, but it pays well. Word is that an early frost has stirred up the monsters in the region and has the local bandits looking to fill their larders before the snows force folk off the roads. Best to be quick, quiet, and be ready for anything. 

It’s a hard few days trekking up the mountains, and the heroes’ feet are aching by the time they catch sight of their destination. The monks are happy to welcome them but even more happy to receive what they carry: A large reinforced box containing the bones of one of the members of their order, lost  for some years while she was out on pilgrimage and now finally returned home to rest. Such an act of charity has more than earned the party a few nights of rest and hospitality and the monks, who happen to be as skilled brewers as they are devout souls, are more than happy to provide. Among the crowd of holy hermits the party might just notice a dour faced monk in fraying robes unloading their cart despite wearing ankle fetters, though their hosts ask them to pay no mind: Brother Humble is always in a sour mood and not even an act of god is going to change that. 

Screams wake the party that night, followed by sound of the great bell and the smell of smoke. The monks are being slaughtered, and before they can do a thing about it the part of the monastery they’re staying in catches fire. Just as they’re forced to flee they catch sight of Brother Humble, smiling toothlessly as he runs one of the other monks through with a sword of unearthly black metal, laughing as the world around him burns. 

Adventure Hooks: 

Trying to divert the mad monk from his slaughter turns out to be a hopeless task, as despite the fact that the old man should barely be able to lift the sword he fights with an inhuman strength and speed and a skill that far eclipses the party’s best. He’ll toy with them at first but should any of the heroes try to make a stand he’ll make sure to give them something to remember him by: a brutal scar, a missing hand, a burn as he presses their body up against the building as it goes up in flames. Should they somehow manage to hold their own he’ll bring the whole place down on top of their heads, leaving them to wake up and pull themselves free of the rubble in the morning. 

Though well protected in a concealed compartment within the saint’s bone box, there’s a chance the sword will be discovered during the journey either because of the party’s curiosity or a random encounter mishap. In such a case, the party will feel a calm will wash over them as they inspect the blade, a presence intoning that they are a sacred weapon sought by the monk, and it was sent to the monastery so that a great wrong may be righted. What the party do from that point is up to them, though their might be forces that would steal the sword back should they wander too far astray. 

If you’re using this adventure as the launchpad for a campain, consider the party ending the first leg of their journey taking a rest at a local outpost, or friendly mountain town before continuing on to the monastery. Not only will it give your party a break from the action and a chance to connect before shit goes down, but it will also prove a poignant moment when they limp back into the haven with whatever few survivors managed to escape the massacre. 

Background: Before he was a monk the man known as brother humble was named Firodon and he was the disinherited elder sibling of the realm’s previous soverign. Born to rule and a peerless swordsman, Firodon was unfortunately a monster who awnsered any flaw or failure with anger and delighted in petty acts of violence. He wasn’t thinking of the consequences when he dangled his youngest sister over the castle ramparts, he just wanted the brat to know her place. The ensuing fall would mean the girl would always need a chair to get around and showed the king and queen that their eldest was unfit to inherit their name, letalone a crown. 

A hunting accident was contrived, and while it would have been easiler (and saved everyone else a lot of grief in the longrun) to put a bolt through the back of prince Firodon’s head his parents were goodhearted people, and thought that with a little guidance the boy might grow beyond his wickedness outside the pressures of royal expectation. And so a body was produced, a story concocted, trusted servants sword to secrecy. Firodon was dragged to the monestary in chains and finally humbled. The queen and king might’ve been right in their thinking. Though Humble raged at the indignity of his birthright denied, life in the abby was good for him. The rigors of life living so far from the palace gave him an outlet for the energy that spurred his darkest impulses, and the monks were not affraid to correct him when he was wrong, as so many others had when he was crown prince. He was not happy, he never allowed himself to be, but he found peace, or atleast he would have had the sword dreams not started. 

Firodon’s family decended from an ancient line that first rose to power through a compact with Orcus, the now dead god of oaths, part of which involved the bestowal of Dominion, darksteel sword of great power and the service of a spirit set to watch over and guard the royal house. Working from behind the scenes this spirit served Firodon’s parents faithfully, as was its role, but upon their deaths its protection transfered not to their chosen heir but to their displaced eldest child who had never abdicated and was thus the “rightful” king in accordance with the ancient pact.  Since that day it has been working tirelessly to put the sword in Firodon’s hand and see him back on the throne regardless of how much blood it needs to shed in order to do so. 

Art1

Art2

[cloaksandcapes]

Chill of the Grave

Blessing, permanent boon, very rare

“When someone returns from the grave, they are never able to find the same warmth in life they once did. It’s hard to tell without being able to touch them, and their lack of warmth. But some say you can see the blue in parts of their veins.”

You are Immune to Cold damage and the Frightened condition. Additionally, you can choose to deal Cold damage whenever you make a melee or ranged weapon attack.

The first time you take Fire damage after each dawn, you are Vulnerable and take double the amount of damage.

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[liarsdicewebcomic]

Liar's Dice #7- Water You Worried About?

[dungeonmalcontent]

Wizard's spellbook, but it's just a crumpled up piece of scrap paper folded up in their pocket and smashed by their keys.

They take it out to cast a spell. They unfold it once and it doubles in size to reveal two spells. Unfolds it again, doubles in size. Now there are four spells. It just keeps going. And going.

The spellbook's final form is an origami ball big enough to engulf the planet.

[educationaldm]

Oh wow, this is a wholesome, but heartbreaking use for a cursed magic item. Comic by After Death Comics.

[narsh-poptarts]

Darn you image limit...

My computer is in the shop so I found myself extremely bored!! DND drawing time!!!!!

1 Vari our human warlock, 2 Asterius, second campaign's minotaur barbarian, 3 Cello, previous previous campaign's (former) aasimar monk, 4-5 Jack, human gunslinger fighter cowboy (me), 6 first full page, containing additional character of Lockson Qui, a construct npc who had an orb among other things, 7 second full page, bottom right containing Riffle, our kenku rogue, 8 Iseult, our water genasi cleric, 9 Connection, our teifling wizard who JUST got the Identify spell, 10 the captain of our ship, Kikou, an owlin Ranger who is 2 ft tall and the shortest in the party

[probablyevilrpgideas]

New Item: The Rod of Dwarven Height

Made this item last night. It's for 3.x, but the basic idea is universal, you just might have to change some of the mechanical specifics.

[ratatatastic]

i think a lot about the finns refusing to take sasha golf ball like they can feel his presence looming over them ready to smite them if they so much as slight him

[vampimull3t]

stripey clothing curse strikes again

[jhamkul]

Goredrinker, Strahd's Fang (dagger), Artifact (requires attunement)

Happy spooky season everyone! This year, I've decided to focus the theme for this week's posts on vampires, and what better way to star the week with one of D&D's most famous vampires, the dark lord of Barovia. This dagger revolves around the question of "what if a group of adventurers managed to grab one of Strahd's fangs and made a weapon out of it"? I guess vampires fangs are strong enough from all the bitting creatures' necks throughout the years, so although a bit goofy at first, I think it can be a cool reward for your games, specially if you plan on visiting castle Ravenloft in your campaign, but be careful, this dagger carries potent curses...

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Thank you very much for checking out this new creation! If you want to see more of my content, feel free to visit my Instagram, where I ask for advice, post teasers, and you can vote for my future posts.

[seikra]

Holy Clapper of Saint Andral

Once a warhammer used by Saint Andral. When his remains were buried in the then small church of the village of Vallaki, his warhammer was repurposed as the clapper on the large bronze bell atop the bell tower.

Mundane Version:

Hallowed hammer of Saint Andral. This silvered warhammer can be used as a catalyst for the ceremony spell without being consumed or losing its silvering. Once this property is used, it can't be used again until the next dawn.

Magical Version:

You can also make it a magical item, in which case treat it as a +1 warhammer with the following properties:

This warhammer has 3 charges. While holding it, you can use 1 or more charges to cast the following spells with their usual casting times: ceremony (1 charge), thunderwave (1 charge), shatter (2 charges).

This warhammer deals double damage to objects and structures made of crystal or glass.

Why did I make this item?

I have been running Curse of Strahd for a while and a couple of months ago my players reached Saint Andral's church in Vallaki.

For a reason unbeknownst to me and the other players, one of them decided to use her grappling hook to sneak into the church by climbing onto the roof and entering through the belfry.

For even more eldritch reasons, upon crossing paths with the bell upon the church's tower, our beloved artificer started pondering the logistics of stealing the large bronze bell from its place. As I described how large and how heavy and how bronze the bell was, I made the mistake of mentioning, with her knowledge, she'd think even stealing the clapper might be complicated, nevermind the entire bell.

Such is the story of how her plans to steal the clapper began, and how the meme was born.

One night I got inspired and wrote this item sheet.

Only time will tell if the clapper heist plans ever come to fruition.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monster hunt: I Bear Thee Unto Glory 

A shambling horse shape composed of battlefield pickings, this demon is a manifestation of slaughter, phyrric victory, and the folly of war. Unto Glory ever seeks more opportunities to spread violence and more fools to lead to their doom, sustaining itself off chaos and fear in between wars where it has the opportunity to gorge. Often seen bearing a rider, the thing which sits astride Unto Glory is more often than not an extension of its being, the worn down wreck of a former victim held aloft like a trophy, holding limply to the reigns and serving only as a distraction in combat. Occasionally it will seek out a new rider to drain dry, favouring those haunted by the toll of war or those who seek violence in the excess of reason. 

One of these would be riders was the Compt Duvialt, a would be warmonger who looked greedily upon the lands of his neighbours and heard rumour that any who manage to rein the demon horse would be undefeated in combat. Mustering allies, mercenaries, and a coven of dark mages to his service, the Compt had the beast summoned through blasphamous ritual only to be thrown from the saddle the night the battle was joined. Free of any bonds, the tarnished steed has roamed the lands since, sowing the seeds of conflict the party will inevitably find themselves caught up in. 

Adventure Hooks

The party’s first blush with Unto Glory’s influence comes when they stumble across a village terrorized by a series of violent incidents. Apparently some weeks ago a ragged wanderer came into the tavern clutching a rusty sword and looking like he was barely holding on to life. He muttered something about seeing a horse before lashing out at the stunned onlookers, slaying two before several brave bystanders managed to put him down. A tragedy to be sure, but folk thought not much of it until the smith’s apprentice, who’d been sold the sword as scrap, started screaming about the sound of hooves and hacking at his teacher until the traumatized tradeswoman caved in his skull with a hammer. Now the sword sits locked behind the smithy doors and the people await a priest they’ve called to DO something about it. Do the party pretend they’re the ones that were sent? Wait for the authorities to arrive? Or lay their hands on an obviously cursed object because it might be valuable?

Any who frequent the tourney circuit could tell you of Lady Ruin, the daughter and heir of Duke Marsette who dominates the jousting lists wearing rusted armour to dishonour the showy expenditure of her rivals. What they couldn’t tell you is that Lady Endellise, despite being raised for years to be an exemplary rider and cavalry commander is infact terrified of death and violence, after nearly being killed in a pitch battle during an attempt by one of her family’s rivals to oust them from their seat. Expected to prove her worthiness as heir by continuing to perform martial pursuits, fearful Endellise unwittingly made a pact with the spectral horse that haunted her since they pulled her from the battlefield, earning for her trouble a dross-fit cuirass that eliminates all her fears when worn. Dreading  dishonour and increasingly addicted to the rush she gets when wearing the armour, Endellise risks losing herself to Unto Glory’s influence, becoming increasingly bloodthirsty every time she dons the cuirass

Foiled in war and stripped of many of his lands and titles, the now bitter Baron Duvilat convalesces in a small estate obsessing over riding unto glory once again, spending the dregs of his fortune supporting a few men at arms and paying for any information that might lead him closer to his errant steed, which the party may now possess. Somewhere down the years a few wires were crossed and the baron now also finds himself a fence for of a rotating crews of horse thieves, which the party will ALSO have to trifle with at some point during their hunt.

Further adventures:

Few know of the Duvilat’s dealings with the demonic, as the widespread rumor is that for the sake of his own machisnmo he chose to break a stallion on the eve of declaring war as a symbolic breaking of his enemy… earning a defeat and a broken back in the process.  Thinking that he will never mount unto Glory until he can walk again, the baron has had no luck in finding a healer to restore the use of his legs. As getting back into the saddle seems more and more likely, the baron will result to more and more desperate measures, perhaps kidnapping a healer familiar to the party or paying them to seek out the coven he once employed.  

Though corroded and thoroughly cursed, the metal that makes up Unto Glory’s hide has the ability to confer any bearer with the battle frenzy of dying warriors, making the demon a walking arsenal for those desperate enough to deal with it. Worse yet, the flakes and splinters of the rusting metal carry the very same curse, infecting victims with bloodlust if they survive the wound.  Should the Compt, Lady Endellise, or anyone else manage to ride the beast, they’ll find themselves the figurehead of a force that would see kingdoms laid to waste and possessed of a power to make for themselves an army of fearless berserkers.

[cloaksandcapes]

What kind of an entity or god might curse a mortal with Weaponrot? Perhaps a Barbarian who thinks his strength alone is enough to overcome any challenge? Or a Fighter who needs to learn that teamwork can help bridge the gap between his shortcomings as a solo warrior?

Curse of Weaponrot

Curse, temporary curse, rare

“Any weapon you touch, tarnishes, losing its edge or blunting its blows.”

Whenever you roll max damage on a weapon dice you must reroll it and take the new result. This effect lasts until the next dawn.