#when its not hearthstone

[madnessatdawn]

I decided to play Marvel Snap. I did so for only a few reasons and only those reasons. Those being that Rogue, Gambit, and Storm are in this game.

[chongoblog]

Babbling book is quickly becoming one of my favorite cards. It's just so positive and generous. Practically costs nothing at all at one mana you drop him on the board and that chill ass motherfucker gives you a spell to use later in the game. And you also get this adorable little 1/1 can ping things but usually is too harmless to be removed.

But more than the BB is just so positive. It comes on the board like "do you want to cast a spell?" and I'm like "yeah BB i do want to cast a spell let's do this shit" and when he attacks he's like "SPELLS ARE FUN" and I'm like "yeah they are SO FUN." He doesn't say some bullshit macho shit like "I will destroy you" he's just like "nah spells are fun." And it looks so happy. I mean this is an inanimate object literally brought to life by magic. It understands it's life is a temporary magical gift and the dude is just fucking loving it. I mean look at his face he's just so happy.

I am literally never sad when babbling book is on board. IDK if he's gonna make it into the metagame or not but for now he (or she) a pretty chill card

Shoutouts for including the link in one of my favorite copypastas

[crabbunch]

Everyone go watch Etho's Hearthstone videos pls :3

Do YOU enjoy the hermitcraft tcg? Are you loosing your mind as you watch the hermits nerd out over the developing meta? Do you like card games? Do you want to start watching Etho? Are you already watching Etho? GO WATCH HIS HEARTSTONE VIDEOS!!!! There's only five of them, and they're a very very good time. They've got a great range of what makes Etho such a good youtuber- his commentary, his ability to explain game mechanics in a quick and understandable way, the way he goes against the grain of the expected meta; it's all there! here's a link to a playlist ^u^

[dycefic]

The Hearthstone God

[The sequel to the God of Prophecy, and the Serpent God of Protection]

---

Fire is out of fashion, in this new age.

Some of my kind have found new homes, new names, in factories or forges, in the hearts of wildfires or crystals or volcanoes.

Most of us are simply forgotten.

I was a fire god, once. A god of gathering, a god of communion, a god of song and story. But there are no hearthstones now. No fires around which families gather to eat and talk and tell stories.

I am lucky. I am tied to a great flat stone near a lake. A lake that has survived all the wild exuberance of men, when they learned to change the world around them. Once, this was a place where travellers stopped to rest. At first they travelled on their feet, or on half-wild horses. Then there were carts, and a road. Much later, cars drove down the road. The road was paved.

But some things do not change. People need clean water to drink, and the spring here is good. They need to rest, when they are weary. And even now, when they come to camp in nylon tents, to fish in the lake, or to hunt the ducks, or drive camper-vans to the flat place, their ancient instincts wake, and they turn to fire once more. They light new fires atop my stone, so flat and safe, from which no log will roll to set the woods afire.

Not so many come now. Camping is less popular these days. But some still come. Some still light their fires, and settle around my stone, and talk, or listen to music, or tell stories. So I survive, just barely, on the edges of belief.

I feel it, when things begin to change. Something is happening. Something is drawing old gods back. Not the great ones, risen beyond mortal understanding, but the oldest gods, the small gods, those who rose when humankind were still learning what they were.

Far to the west of me, a god even more ancient than I wakes, and begins to hunt again. I remember the stories that were once told of that old serpent, and tell them over to myself in the long fireless nights.

A god of prophecy, not of this land, settles south and west, and I remember tales of ancient ravens, their wisdom and their guile and their sharp, sharp eyes. There was a raven clan once, who passed this way in the days of skin garments and stone tools, but I have forgotten their name. I only remember the symbol they wore, the black bird with its spread wings, marked in charcoal or charring on wooden talismans or leather garments.

I wait, to see who will awaken next.

To my great surprise, it is me.

The people who come this time aren’t like the campers. They come at night, a ragged family group with few blood ties between them, with a single tent and few possessions carried on devices I haven’t seen before. Bicycles, they’re called, slung over with bags the way ponies used to be. They come at night, and hide when cars pass on the road.

They light a fire on my stone, with wood scavenged from the forest, and huddle around its warmth. They don’t speak much, not at first, but they say enough. They have no home, I learn. They are travellers of a kind I have not known before, who are allowed to stop nowhere, but have no goal but a place to rest. They are thin, and worn, and so tired. So very tired.

They need a hearth.

I am only a weak shadow of a god, now, who once recorded the songs and stories of a thousand generations in my ancient stone, but I am still a god of fire. Their fire burns slow, their little fuel lasting well. The food they heat over it sustains them better. The water of that spring, my spring, puts a little life back in them. This stone has lain in this place since great monsters walked this world, since before humans spoke words to one another, and I came into being with the first fire that burned on it. I am old, old, and though weak, I am not powerless.

They stay.

I cannot speak to them. I am old, and weak, and they do not believe. But slowly, with the power of the fires they build every night, with the tiny offerings of scraps of food spilled into the flames, with their growing confidence in the safety of this place, I am able to do more. I give them dreams and they find the cave not far away, where they can hide. They dream of fish, and begin to try to catch some. A woman remembers that some of the local plants are safe to eat, when I slowly wake a long-forgotten memory of a camping trip from her childhood.

And then a child, a strange, quiet child who rarely speaks, a child without mother or father, in the care of an older brother who is exhausted to the very edge of death but cannot give up while she needs him… that child begins to hear.

She sits on my stone, sometimes for hours, not moving or speaking. It worries the others, but at least she is quiet, at least she is no trouble, and they are beginning to associate their hearth with safety. So they let her sit.

She is *listening*. She is listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of the forest, to the wind blowing. And because she is listening, where no-one else has listened for so long, I sing to her. I sing to her the songs of thousands of years. From the wordless music of the earliest people, who sang what was in their hearts without words, to the songs I have learned from the fishermen with their radios and bluetooth speakers.

I do not know if she hears me, for some time. But then, one night, while they sit around their fire and eat food the oldest have almost certainly stolen, she sings one of my songs. “In a cavern… on a canyon… excavating for a mine…” she sings in a small voice. The others are startled, confused, for she has not spoken aloud since some bad thing they do not name happened, but one of the older ones knows the song and sings with her.

I have always liked ‘Clementine’. It’s been popular with campers for a long time.

The next day, while she sits on my stone, she sings along to one of the wordless songs the Raven People whose name I no longer remember once sang. It is a lullaby, a soft croon to soothe an infant, passed from mother to mother, and she seems to take pleasure in it.

She can hear me. She can even answer me, as the voice driven away by pain and fear begins to return. And so I grow stronger still. Strong enough to make the raven sign on the stone, one day, in the ashes of the fire of the night before.

She takes a half burned stick, and draws the sign on the stone. Pleased, I show her another sign, a leaping fish. She draws that too.

Soon, I need not shift the ashes. I can show her the pictures in her mind, and she draws them. She draws the wheel of a cart, and into her heart I whisper the stories the travellers in covered wagons once told over my stone. She draws a fish, and I make her laugh silently with the jests of fishermen who boast of fish who escaped them. She draws a horse, and I tell her about the wild horses who once drank at this lake, about the men and women who captured and tamed them and rode them through the forest when it was far greater than it is now. She draws a long-toothed cat, and I show her the great cat that once slept on my stone, and denned in the cave where her new found family sleep.

One night, when all the others are asleep and my fire has burned down to coals, she creeps back to the stone and looks into the coals. “Who are you?” she asks. “Are you real?”

She is afraid that the voice in her mind is the voice of madness, a lie created by a mind that does not work like other minds, that has endured great hardship. I do not want this child to be afraid. To instill fear runs counter to my very nature, save in whoever might threaten those my hearth protects.

I am a god of the hearth. I am a god of food, and communication, and peace, and safety. I am all the things that fire used to mean, before humans learned again to fear the thing they had tamed. I do not often take a form, for fire is my form, but for her I must try.

There was a wise woman once, who knew me, whose clan visited this lake several times every year. I watched her grow up, and grow old. I watched her learn of the god of the fire stone, and I watched her teach others. She slept beside me as a child, and as a woman. She sang her children to sleep beside me, and her grandchildren, and dozed beside me as an old, old woman. To her, I was represented by a sign of a flame in an oval, a fire and a stone.

I build a likeness of her out of the light of the coals and the shadows of smoke, a child with straight dark hair and a simple tunic, and in lines of light I draw the sign of the fire and the stone on the outlined chest. “I am the fire,” I tell her, “and the stone. I am all the fires that have ever burned here, all the stories told, all the songs sung, all the meals eaten. I am the traveler’s hearth, and the rest for the weary, and this is my place.”

“Piedra de fuego,” she says, tracing the symbol with her finger in the air. “The fire stone.”

“Yes. I am the god of this place.”

She frowns at this. “My brother says that God is in the sky.”

“Many gods are in the sky.” I cannot continue to hold the form of the girl, but the coals shift to make my sign. “I am not. I am here. I have always been here, since the first people built a fire on my stone, and warmed themselves.”

She nods slowly. “You are… a small god,” she says thoughtfully. “A place god. Like in movies.”

“Yes.” I’ve heard of movies, which are a new way of telling old, old stories. “Old places, important places, often have gods. And gods who are forgotten return to their old places and wait, until someone believes again.”

“Will you protect us?” she asks. “When the police come, to tell us to move on?”

“I am not strong,” I tell her sadly. “I cannot make men go away from here, if they are dangerous, or even call game here for you as I once did. But what I can do, I will do.”

She sits watching the coals for a long time, thinking. “Can we make you stronger?”

I think too, and she waits patiently. “You have already made me stronger. You listened. You believed. If you can convince the others to believe, that will make me stronger still.”

She sighed. “They don’t believe in anything, anymore. Not good things.”

It is a sad thing, that she knows that. They’ve been trying to hide it from her. “Then,” I tell her, “that means there is a place in their hearts that is ready for me. I am not hope. I am not a happy ending. I am not a god in the sky. I am a stone, and a fire, and a song. I am *real*. They can believe in what is real.”

The next night, she asks for a story, and one of the adults tells her an old fairy-tale from a country far away.

The next night, again, she asks for a story, and another adult tells a funny story about his childhood.

On the third night, she asks her brother to tell her a story. He tries, but he is so tired - not physically, but emotionally - that he runs out of words. So she lays her hand on his arm and offers to tell him a story, instead.

And she tells them all a story about a stone near a lake, flat and strong, that people wearing uncured skins and carrying flint weapons built a fire on. She tells of centuries passing, of people coming to the lake on their feet, on horses, in carts and wagons, in cars and motor-homes. Of thousands of years of fires, of people gathered around them, of the great continuity of humanity, and the Piedra De Fuego that has lain in this place since time began, listening to the stories and the songs and the voices of people long gone. Somewhere in the stone, she says, laying her hand on it, all those stories are remembered. All those songs are still sung. And it will remember us too.

I don’t know if it will work. But I was right. People need to believe in something. They need something to hold onto, when times are hard, when the ties of community and family are broken and they feel alone. And a stone thousands of years old, and a fire endlessly renewed on that stone, always new… that is real. They touch me, and think of those who came before, of thousands of years of history meeting them in this place, and they feel less alone.

It’s not much, not yet. But it is something. My nature, my existence, as explained to them by my small, strange priestess, is a slender lifeline flung to those who are adrift, a tiny certainty in a world they do not trust. And the more they believe in that lifeline, that certainty, then the more they believe in me. I *am* growing stronger.

When the police come, I will not be able to make them leave… but I think I am strong enough now to hide my people from unkind eyes. And if I can do that, then their faith will grow.

Tonight, three more people come. A mother and two children, weary and beaten down with hardship. My people welcome them, give them fish and greens grown by the lake, speak kindly to them. And when they have eaten, my little priestess sits between the two children and tells them a story of a stone, and a fire, and thousands of years of stories and songs, and she sings a wordless lullaby six thousand years forgotten, but living again in a child who draws the sign of the Raven in the dirt while she sings, and the sign of the fire on the stone.

And I grow a little stronger.

[deadmotelsusa]

We’re back with another ✨MOTEL REVIVAL✨

Honestly, these are my favorite posts to make because they’re the only ones with a happy ending. Today’s feature is appropriately named The Reclaimed Motel.

Before it was the Reclaimed Motel, it was the Hearthstone Motel. The Hearthstone opened in 1960 and in more recent years, had stopped nightly rentals and began renting its rooms as as long-term apartments. When current owners Kendra and Jared took over, they could see the property had good bones but was in desperate need of some TLC.

Beginning in the 60s, the Hearthstone was a staple in the Red Hook, New York community. In the 2020s, this still rings true. The original owners raised their daughter while running the motel, and now she lives just down the road. The motel’s immediate next door neighbors honeymooned in the “honeymoon suite”. So even though the guests are primarily visitors from NYC and other urban areas who want to visit upstate, the motel continues to maintain its close community roots.

Today, the Reclaimed Motel is alive and open for business after a massive renovation. Some additions include a deck for each room, eclectic + vintage furniture (all sourced by Kendra herself), a sauna and a massive wild flower garden out front.

[polarspaz]

Just a small rant...about Yu-Gi-Oh

I REALLY like card games, I've played Pokemon, Hearthstone, MAGIC, Marvel Snap, Old ass Yu-Gi-Oh (when there were only fusion summons), Digimon, Lost kingdoms, etc!

I know how crazy Meta decks can get, (ZooLock in Hearthstone/Destroy cards in Marvel SNAP) But never have I played a card game where I can lose 5 times in a row without even getting to my turn.

I shit you not, 5 TIMES IN A ROW AND I NEVER GOT TO DO ANYTHING. I JUST HAD TO SIT THERE AND WATCH THEM DRAW CARDS, ACTIVATING SPELL EFFECTS AND MONSTER EFFECTS FOR TEN MINUTES UNTIL THEY HAVE 5 MONSTER ON THE FIELD AND 4 TRAP CARDS.

ITS LIKE IF YOU WENT TO A JOUSTING TOURNAMENT AND THE GUY YOU'RE UP AGAINST GETS TO CHANGE HIS HORSE TO A SEMI TRUCK, WITH 80 FLAMETHROWERS PLASTERED ALL OVER IT. AND WHEN YOU TRY AND CHANGE YOUR HORSE HE'S LIKE F*CK YOU, KILLS YOUR HORSE, TAKES YOUR LANCE, GIVES YOU A STICK, AND THEN SAYS, MKAY...READY FOR THE FIRST ROUND???!!!

Am I being a salty bitch over a children card game? Yeah. BUT BOY AM I A SALTY BITCH OVER A CHILDREN'S CARD GAME.

Don't take this too seriously btw, lol I'm Chill ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". Just thought this was amusing and wanted to share.

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 6

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Being the elder of the largest hearthstone community on this continent came with a litany of responsibilities, some outspoken and many more tacit. One of which was keeping a cool head and level temperament even in times of crisis.

Kanjigar falling and there being no trace of a new Trollhunter for days certainly counted as a crisis.

Glancing around his workshop, Vendel confirmed that he was indeed alone before placing a hand on the wall, searching for a small, hidden compartment.

Dealing with such troubles when they arose steadily wore at his nerves, but Vendel accepted these burdens wholeheartedly. The position of a leader was never one he sought out, but time and time again he found no one else willing to fulfill the responsibilities no one else stepped up to. He was no troll’s master, Vendel was simply willing to do what needed to be done.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t allow himself a quick reward now that the most dire urgency had passed.

Vendel pulled a small stone box out of the cubby in the wall, opening it to reveal a dark amber bottle. Uncorking the bottle he gave the contents an appreciative sniff before taking a deep swig. Warmth blooming in his stomach as he swallowed.

A vintage from the old country, not overly strong but of the highest quality, and if there was ever a time to indulge himself with a nip it was now.

After several unbearably tense days the new Trollhunter had been discovered, and while the work had only just begun, all of Trollmarket could breathe a collective sigh of relief at the presence of their new champion and the assurance of the amulet’s continuity. 

Recorking the bottle, Vendel stepped over and placed it on the corner of his work table. Part of him longed to pour the contents into a flagon, spend all evening sipping and savoring the fine taste, but he couldn’t allow himself such luxury just yet.

The new Trollhunter’s training had to begin immediately. Vendel didn’t dare to dream that they were close to Kanjigar’s level of skill, but surely they couldn’t be as young as some of the rumors claimed–

A soft thudding echoed in from the hall, Venedel swiftly replacing the mead in its hiding place, glancing over just in time to see AAARRRGGHH lumbering into the dwell with a large noisy sack clutched in one hand.

“Humans,” AAARRRGGHH pointed his free hand at the sack, its contents shouting and squirming within the canvas “Caught,”

“Get your foot out of my face!”

“Your elbow’s in my gut!”

“Hang on hang on hang on, I’ve got a swiss army keychain–”

In an instant the pleasant tingle from the mead evaporated “You brought the humans here!?”

AAARRRGGHH blinked, glancing back and forth between Vendel and the sack with a deeply uncomfortable expression. Vendel bit back a groan.

AAARRRGGHH was far from a foolish troll, indeed one did not rise to the rank of general by being a half wit, but his tendency to follow tasks he was given to the letter rather than using his own intuition to follow through often led to problems, problems that often lead Vendel to headaches.

“Well no matter, take them to the surface and–”

A loud ripping sound startled Vendel into silence, glancing over just in time to see a wide split open up in the side of the bag and four humans come tumbling out, landing on the floor in a heap of yelps and grumbles.

AAARRRGGHH blinked down at them then looked up at Vendel helplessly.

Vendel pinched the stone between his eyes and grumbled a curse, muttering at AAARRRGGHH in common trollish.

“Stand in front of the entrance so they can’t leave the dwell,”

Chasing after a bunch of stray humans was the last thing Vendel wanted to do right now. They’d gather them back up once they had more hands to help them do it. For now they’d just ensure that they didn’t run loose in the market.

AAARRRGGHH nodded back at him before subtly shuffling to the side and blocking off the cave entrance. The humans appeared to take no notice, clamoring to their feet and starting to very noisily explore their surroundings.

“Holy shish kebabs, what is this place!?”

“Where are we….”

“It looks like some kind of underground workshop,”

“I see feldspar– holy heck is that entire wall citrine!?”

Vendel pointedly ignored the humans as they spread out throughout his dwell, biting his tongue even when they started to fiddle with his tools and thumb through his manuscripts with their grimy, fleshy fingers. Any attention he gave them would only serve to rile them up even further. The best thing to do with the humans was ignore them until–

A soft poke in his side had Vendel whipping around with a glare, sending one of the humans, stout with orange hair, hastily scurrying away from him.

Merlin give him patience, was it too much to ask to have the new Trollhunter’s advent go smoothly–

“Vendel I hope you’ve prepared yourself,” Blinkous’ voice echoed in from the entrance tunnel “Our Trollhunter is here!”

AAARRRGGHH stepped to the side, allowing Blinkous and a smaller figure in shining silver armor to step into the dwell.

“Allow me to introduce our new Trollhunter, Jim! Son of Bah-bu-rah,”

Vendel had hoped the claims of the Trollhunter’s youth were exaggerations, the amulet of Daylight couldn’t truly choose a whelp. But to his horror the Trollhunter appeared exactly as young as witnesses claimed.

He fought to keep a grimace off his face. He needed to keep his composure, if only for the sake of the trolls around him. But titans below it was obscene to see that armor wrapped around such a youngster. Soft looking stone, tusks and horns blunted, Vendel had half a mind to grab this Jim by the scruff and drag him back to his parents–

Vendel gripped his staff and pulled in a discreet breath to steady himself. What’s done was done, a Trollhunter chosen is never unchosen, as scandalous as their new hunter’s age was the only thing to do was to provide him training and–

“Guys!” Jim raced into the dwell, wide smile splitting his face, and to Vendel’s shock the humans scurried up to meet him.

“I’m so glad you’re all ok!”

“I’m glad you got away from tall dark and ugly,”

There was more chatter among the five of them, four humans and one troll, but Vendel heard none of it. Turning swiftly towards Blinkous, who’s utterly hang jawed expression told him that he was just as shocked at this development as Vendel was.

From what he’d understood the humans just happened to be in the area and ran into Bular, at which point the new Trollhunter jumped in to defend them. But seeing them interact so…so carelessly…

The sout human prodded their elbow into the Trollhunter’s side, the Trollhunter barking out a laugh and swatting their shoulder. All five still smiling and relaxed.

They’d met long before this night, precisely how long ago Vendel couldn’t say, but long enough that the Trollhunter trusted them implicitly, more than any troll should ever trust a human. Vendel’s stomach started to develop a painful pinch, just what sort of upbringing had this stripling been through that would encourage them to form such inappropriate– 

“Where are they!?”

Booming footsteps echoed in from the tunnel, startling the humans and young hunter into silence, Blinkous and AAARRRGGHH staggering back in shock, the groan that had been building in Vendel’s throat finally escaping.

Of course, fates forbid he only have to deal with one dilemma at a time.

Draal shoved his way past Blinkous into the dwell, red eyes narrowing when they spotted the smaller troll wrapped in armor.

Jim and the humans stiffened under the scrutiny.

“So you’re the new Trollhunter…” Draal said with a growl, prowling around him.

“Uhhh……” Jim looked down at himself and jerked his shoulders up and down “I guess?”

Draal snorted, coming up to Vendel’s side “They’re clearly too young, the amulet should be borne by a full grown troll, not a whelp like this,”

A sentiment Vendel certainly didn’t disagree with, but the fact was there simply wasn’t anything he or anyone else could do to change things.

 He reached up and clapped a hand on Draal’s shoulder, forcing the younger troll to lean down and look him in the eyes “Draal, you know as well as I do that a troll chosen by the amulet is never unchosen. And while this choice might be…unconventional we must–”

“Excuse me,”

Both Vendel and Draal glanced down to see one of the humans, brown skin and dark hair with a streak of blue, approaching them.

“Hey there, so I noticed you guys toss the words ‘troll’ and ‘Trollhunter’ around a lot. I was just wondering if you could explain a bit what they mean?”

Vendel opened his mouth but Draal beat him to it.

“We are trolls,” Draal said with a growl “I’m a troll,” he pointed towards himself “He’s a troll,” a thumb towards Vendel “They are all trolls!” a hand thrown in the direction of Blinky, AAARRRGGHH, and Jim.

“Wait…” Jim slowly pulled himself to full height, raising a hand to point inwards towards his own chest “That’s what I am? The stone skin and the horns make me a…troll?”

One of Draal’s eyes twitched.

“Correct,” he whipped an arm up and stabbed a finger in his direction “And that amulet and the armor it summons belong to the Trollhunter,”

“Ok…wow, so I’m a troll…”

“Guess you’ll have to return all your were-gargoyle business cards,” the dark skinned human said with a laugh. 

“Wait, you have a Troll-hunter?” the blue haired human spoke up again “Because if you’re all trolls does that mean you hunt yourselves or–”

They were cut off by a huff and a snarl from Draal, the troll’s patience clearly at an end “How much longer must these fleshbags remain here?”

“Hey I don’t call you gravel face don’t call me fleshbag…” the human with the longest hair muttered.

“Quite right,” Blinkous stepped forward, holding another large sack in front of him “Alright, everyone in, we’ll have you back to the surface in no time,”

None of the humans moved, eyeing the bag uneasily, Jim stepped past them, situating himself between the humans and Blinkous.

“Ok, no bags here,”

“Human feet have never sullied the stones of Trollmarket!” Draal said with a growl.

“Ok, wow, can’t believe you just said that,” the dark skinned human said.

“Look,” Jim moved until he was standing between Draal and the humans “The five of us are a package deal here. So no more ‘fleshbag’ talk or throwing people into sacks,”

Draal growled while Vendel was taken aback.

The Trollhunter’s behavior towards their humans, how casual they were with each other…. He had a sinking feeling that the stripling’s upbringing was more enmeshed in human society than any proper troll’s should be. Perhaps this was why the amulet had called to him, to lead him away from the humans kingdoms of the surface and back underground where he belo–

“Humans have no place in our hallowed home,” Draal snarled “As the one wearing that amulet you should desire to uphold the sanctity of Trollmarket more than any other,”

“But I’m human,” Jim blurted out.

The eye of every troll in the dwell landed on him in an instant, strained silence filling the dwell.

“Hah!” Blinkous forced out an awkward laugh “Our new Trollhunter is a jokester, such a delightful spirit,”

“He is clearly unwell and unfit to wield the amulet!”

“Maybe humans….stay?”

Vendel buried his forehead in his hand. Gorgus help him this was going to be a long night.

“Oh right,” Jim snapped his fingers “Toby do you have the–”

“On it,” the stout human pulled something out of his bag and pointed it towards the Trollhunter. He gave the object a click, bathing the Trollhunter in violet light.

Wonderful, their new Trollhunter was a whelp who’d clearly spent far too many of his formative years with humans who’d filled his head with all sorts of nonsensical ideas. Was it the world that had gone mad or just him–

There was a shift, so subtle Vendel thought he imagined it; then, slowly but surely, a change swept over the Trollhunter.

Stature shrinking, horns receding away, blue stone turning soft and pink.Vendel’s mouth going dry as he watched the transformation unfold before his eyes.

Now it was not a troll but a human that stood before them, still wrapped in the shining armor of the Trollhunter, amulet of Daylight affixed to their chest.

Vendel was millennia old, he’d dealt with many challenges that left him frustrated, disgruntled, or even exhausted, but for the first time in more centuries than he could remember Vendel found himself chilled to the bone.

The human spread their arms, armor clinking as they did–

Blasphemous, heretical, to have that sacred armor worn by one who could twist themselves between stone and flesh–

And let out a small laugh “Tah dah…”

No one moved; Blinkous, AAARRRGGHH, and Draal staring at the Trollhunter in frozen horror. An emotion Vendel himself was also feeling in just as great a measure, but he didn’t let the terror and revulsion paralyze him as he rushed to Blinkous’ side, leaning down to hiss in his ear.

“Go get a gaggletack now!”

[gcldendaemon]

im rereading the stormlight archive in preparation for wind and truth, just finished all other cosmere books this year, and i came upon the first mention of Tien. Kaladin has just seen some new recruits for Bridge Four:

the way of kings, chapter 9

it is so strikingly, and heartbreakingly so, similar to the moment in the sunlit man when nomad thinks he sees kaladin.

the sunlit man, chapter 9

and of course its funnier in the sunlit man because it’s our beloved Wit and Hoid but it made be realise the similarities between nomad and kal in those moments.

kaladin has been a slave for months trying to escape but eventually accepting his lot, and while he has begun to become used to syl, she has just told him shes leaving, if only briefly. seeing "Tien" brings him back to Hearthstone, if even for a split second.

nomad or sigzil has been on the run for years and is slowly loosing hope for escape and auxiliary is but a monotonous voice in his head. seeing "Kaladin" brings him back to the glory days of Bridge Four, if even for a split second.

im just- ah the parallels-

[moominvalley-state-of-mind]

head canons for drawing styles! yayayya:

(not a ton of charicters are on here cause i didn't think they would draw/im not sure what their art style would be)

percy jackson: all his drawings somehow look like they were made in mspaint and half awake

annabeth chase: diagrams, but when she dose draw someone (like percy or sally) its very sketchy, like Role Dahle's drawings

piper mcclean: that grungy alt style with the long eyelashes

leo valdez: realy only dose diagrams, and said diagrams are mainly made up of basic shapes and stuffs but when he dose draw people its the worst stick figure you have ever seen

frank zhang: very cartoony, simmiler style to We Bear Bears

hazel leveque: charcoal drawings, also kinda realistic (i think its cannon that she dose charcoal, or knows how to)

nico di angelo: realism, but focuses more on landscapes than people

magnus chase: stick figures

alex feirro: like annabeth and leo, most of her drawings are diagrams but i think his style is kinda art-nouvoe ish

mallory keen: is simmiler to a lot of fashion drawings from the 70s, but i think its also kinda resembles ND Sevenson (the person who origonaly made Nimona)

t.j.: realism. while he didn't have much time to draw in his life, i like to think he did it as often as he could and took some classes on art during death. no basis for that one, but i think hes also good at pixel art.

halfborn: has a range of styles, but mostly relies on a semi abstract one

blitzen: fashion stylist, gotta get things down quick, so i think his style is full of shapes (all styles are but whatever) and kinda scratchy.

hearthstone: kinda loopy and sketchy, some how one line drawings

carter kane: realism, but i think it would be cool if he did watercolor too. him doing lanscapes sounds interesting too

sadie kane: scean 2000s drawing style with the square mouths and pointy teeth

EDIT:

holy moly how did i forget about rachel dare

i think she also had a realistic style, but its like. 1800s or 1700s realism. and she defenetly has alot of diffrent styles like halfborn

[renaultmograine]

"The Light will abolish the Shadow in all its forms. I, personally, would never resort to its dark methods.

...Except when playing Hearthstone. Sometimes that game brings out the worst in me."

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Minor Magic Items, 8: Also known as not-quite-wondrous items, common magic items, utility and niche magical equipment, underpowered relics or depowered artifacts, these objects are essentially cantrips and weak magic spells in physical form. Useful for more than just combat, these items create light, entertain, clean, play music, flavor food, heat, cool, warn, inform and generally raise the quality of life for their bearers. They can act as unique world building items, magic shop filler objects, barter and trade goods as well as ingredients to create or upgrade stronger magic items or enchantments.

Negatron Cloak: A rich purple cloak with gold trim, woven from a strange anti-magic fabric that does its best to absorb weak arcane effects. The wielder adds 1d4 to the result of any saving throws he makes against level 1 spells and cantrips.

Second-Light Lantern: A curious lantern with numerous panels and covers that can be shifted as an action equivalent to attacking, to function as a bullseye or hooded lantern. Objects such as these are often carried by scholars and spies who often need the finest possible detail without revealing themselves to others. When filled with oil and lit, the lantern sheds a spectrum of illumination known as Second-Light, which is only visible to creatures with darkvision, causing them to see the full range of colors in things illuminated by it. Normally creatures with darkvision can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray. Alternatively, the panels can be shifted to shed a still more specialized Second-light, visible only to those who are touching the lantern’s handle.

Portraiture Gremlin: A small cold iron box trimmed in silver containing a tiny ethereal goblinoid looking fey sitting on a miniature chair surrounded by dabs of pigments. The box has a switch that when pressed strikes the gremlin on the head with a tiny hammer. Whenever the gremlin is struck like this it rapidly paints whatever it sees out of the small porthole at the front of the box. It takes an action equivalent to attacking for the bearer to aim the box and trigger the switch after which the gremlin takes 1 minute to finish the picture (The bearer does not need to continue pointing the box at the subject) and the result is a perfectly accurate painting, albeit miniature (About a 3 inch square). When found, the gremlin comes with enough pigments for 2d4+2 paintings. Each subsequent painting requires fine quality pigments worth at least 2 gold pieces each. The box can hold 10 paintings worth of pigments and it takes one minute to carefully funnel more paints to the gremlin.

Quenching Acid: A large, curved brass oil lamp detailed with fine glyph of restoration and power. The vessel contains a rare substance known as Quenching Acid, which can only be scavenged from the crumbling, remnants of the fledgling kingdom known once called Fallgrim. If applied to a lethal weapon of any variety or construction, regardless of how chipped, warped or rusted it is, by some miracle the Quenching Acid restores it and imbues it with power. The contents of the lamp can be slowly poured over one magical or mundane, melee or ranged weapon or up to 10 pieces of ammunition over a one-minute period. The weapon sizzles and smokes with an acrid stench as the caustic solution scours away all traces of rust, rot and ruin. If the weapon was damaged or broken, it is now considered perfectly made and is far more lethal than it was before. The quenched weapon now permanently scores a critical hit on a roll of 19 or 20.

Hearthstone. A rustic, red brick that feels pleasantly warm and smell like good stew and fresh bread. The bearer always knows the direction to a firepit, hearth, stove or fireplace where a fire has been lit at least in some way every day for the past 30 days.

Goblin Claw: A detached decrepit goblin hand that has three fingers extended. As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can hold the claw and speak aloud one wish. In response, one finger of the goblin claw contracts and one goblin appears within 60 feet of the bearer. This goblin is completely loyal to the being who made the wish and will attempt to fulfill the wish to the best of its ability until the task is complete, the goblin drops to zero hit points or until 1 year passes, at which point the goblin will disappear leaving nothing behind. Once all fingers have contracted the Goblin Claw disintegrates and the item is destroyed. ---Note: If your game doesn’t have statistics for a goblin, use a Commoner or a Civilian instead.

Truly Portable Ram: A marvel of gnomish artifice, this battering ram functions just as well as a mundane portable ram but has been enchanted to only weigh half a pound. Furthermore, as an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can fold the ram in on itself several times until it becomes a 6-inch cube. Another action of the same type is required to unfold the ram for use.

Dryad’s Key: A lush, green leaf with a bug-bitten, key-like tooth at the bottom of its stem. While holding the leaf, the bearer can speak its command word and place it into or against a tree, turning it like a key and creating a magical link between the tree and another one at any distance, on the same plane of existence. The bearer must have seen or touched the destination tree at least once before and both plants must be at least as tall as the bearer. Until the end of the bearer's next turn any creature can step into the key-touched tree and exit from the destination plant by using five feet of movement. Once the leaf has been used in this way, it withers and becomes a nonmagical leaf.

Letter-Lift Paper: A pad of light tissue paper contains 4d6 sheets all enchanted with a subtle magic. When a sheet of paper is pressed to a written page, such as a book or letter, and left there for six seconds, it transfers a perfect copy of the text onto the thin paper. The copy would never pass for the original, but preserves details such as handwriting, which allows a forger to study the writing at length later on.

Antagonistic Alchemist’s Accoutrement: A heavy lead wand shot with veins of gold as if a natural philosopher had partially succeeded at transmuting the dull, worthless metal into its pure lustrous, treasured counterpart. The implement retains a portion of the transformation magic used upon it and can be used as a spellcasting focus with the added bonus of occasional repeating the transmutation effect on an unsuspecting victim. Whenever the wielder lands a critical hit with a spell attack roll that deals damage, small portions of the target’s body are transmuted into droplets of pure gold. The equivalent of one gold coin per point of hit point damage dealt by the critical hit (In total, to a maximum limit of the amount of hit points the target has remaining), tumbles out of the target’s body and falls to the ground in small nuggets to be collected after the fight. ---Note: DM’s can change the effect to function on the first time per day the wielder lands a critical hit if they feel their players will get distracted trying to abuse the effect to get rich rather than treating it as a fun, novel wand.

-Click Here to be directed to the Hotlinks To All Tables post, which provides (As you might have guessed) convenient links to all of the loot and resource tables this blog has.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

Negatron Cloak: A rich purple cloak with gold trim, woven from a strange anti-magic fabric that does its best to absorb weak arcane effects. The wielder adds 1d4 to the result of any saving throws he makes against level 1 spells and cantrips.

Second-Light Lantern: A curious lantern with numerous panels and covers that can be shifted as an action equivalent to attacking, to function as a bullseye or hooded lantern. Objects such as these are often carried by scholars and spies who often need the finest possible detail without revealing themselves to others. When filled with oil and lit, the lantern sheds a spectrum of illumination known as Second-Light, which is only visible to creatures with darkvision, causing them to see the full range of colors in things illuminated by it. Normally creatures with darkvision can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray. Alternatively, the panels can be shifted to shed a still more specialized Second-light, visible only to those who are touching the lantern’s handle.

Portraiture Gremlin: A small cold iron box trimmed in silver containing a tiny ethereal goblinoid looking fey sitting on a miniature chair surrounded by dabs of pigments. The box has a switch that when pressed strikes the gremlin on the head with a tiny hammer. Whenever the gremlin is struck like this it rapidly paints whatever it sees out of the small porthole at the front of the box. It takes an action equivalent to attacking for the bearer to aim the box and trigger the switch after which the gremlin takes 1 minute to finish the picture (The bearer does not need to continue pointing the box at the subject) and the result is a perfectly accurate painting, albeit miniature (About a 3 inch square). When found, the gremlin comes with enough pigments for 2d4+2 paintings. Each subsequent painting requires fine quality pigments worth at least 2 gold pieces each. The box can hold 10 paintings worth of pigments and it takes one minute to carefully funnel more paints to the gremlin.

Quenching Acid: A large, curved brass oil lamp detailed with fine glyph of restoration and power. The vessel contains a rare substance known as Quenching Acid, which can only be scavenged from the crumbling, remnants of the fledgling kingdom known once called Fallgrim. If applied to a lethal weapon of any variety or construction, regardless of how chipped, warped or rusted it is, by some miracle the Quenching Acid restores it and imbues it with power. The contents of the lamp can be slowly poured over one magical or mundane, melee or ranged weapon or up to 10 pieces of ammunition over a one-minute period. The weapon sizzles and smokes with an acrid stench as the caustic solution scours away all traces of rust, rot and ruin. If the weapon was damaged or broken, it is now considered perfectly made and is far more lethal than it was before. The quenched weapon now permanently scores a critical hit on a roll of 19 or 20.

Hearthstone. A rustic, red brick that feels pleasantly warm and smell like good stew and fresh bread. The bearer always knows the direction to a firepit, hearth, stove or fireplace where a fire has been lit at least in some way every day for the past 30 days.

Goblin Claw: A detached decrepit goblin hand that has three fingers extended. As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can hold the claw and speak aloud one wish. In response, one finger of the goblin claw contracts and one goblin appears within 60 feet of the bearer. This goblin is completely loyal to the being who made the wish and will attempt to fulfill the wish to the best of its ability until the task is complete, the goblin drops to zero hit points or until 1 year passes, at which point the goblin will disappear leaving nothing behind. Once all fingers have contracted the Goblin Claw disintegrates and the item is destroyed. ---Note: If your game doesn’t have statistics for a goblin, use a Commoner or a Civilian instead.

Truly Portable Ram: A marvel of gnomish artifice, this battering ram functions just as well as a mundane portable ram but has been enchanted to only weigh half a pound. Furthermore, as an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can fold the ram in on itself several times until it becomes a 6-inch cube. Another action of the same type is required to unfold the ram for use.

Dryad’s Key: A lush, green leaf with a bug-bitten, key-like tooth at the bottom of its stem. While holding the leaf, the bearer can speak its command word and place it into or against a tree, turning it like a key and creating a magical link between the tree and another one at any distance, on the same plane of existence. The bearer must have seen or touched the destination tree at least once before and both plants must be at least as tall as the bearer. Until the end of the bearer's next turn any creature can step into the key-touched tree and exit from the destination plant by using five feet of movement. Once the leaf has been used in this way, it withers and becomes a nonmagical leaf.

Letter-Lift Paper: A pad of light tissue paper contains 4d6 sheets all enchanted with a subtle magic. When a sheet of paper is pressed to a written page, such as a book or letter, and left there for six seconds, it transfers a perfect copy of the text onto the thin paper. The copy would never pass for the original, but preserves details such as handwriting, which allows a forger to study the writing at length later on.

Antagonistic Alchemist’s Accoutrement: A heavy lead wand shot with veins of gold as if a natural philosopher had partially succeeded at transmuting the dull, worthless metal into its pure lustrous, treasured counterpart. The implement retains a portion of the transformation magic used upon it and can be used as a spellcasting focus with the added bonus of occasional repeating the transmutation effect on an unsuspecting victim. Whenever the wielder lands a critical hit with a spell attack roll that deals damage, small portions of the target’s body are transmuted into droplets of pure gold. The equivalent of one gold coin per point of hit point damage dealt by the critical hit (In total, to a maximum limit of the amount of hit points the target has remaining), tumbles out of the target’s body and falls to the ground in small nuggets to be collected after the fight. ---Note: DM’s can change the effect to function on the first time per day the wielder lands a critical hit if they feel their players will get distracted trying to abuse the effect to get rich rather than treating it as a fun, novel wand.

Transmuter’s Ring: A lead band, the work of a talented-but-lazy alchemist. In attempting to create a philosopher's stone, she got this far and called it a day. Once per day, the bearer can activate the ring as an action equivalent to an attack of opportunity, to turn himself into solid gold for one hour. From the bearer’s perspective, no time will pass and the effect cannot be ended early short of using dispelling or curse breaking magic on the statue. As the statue, the bearer is considered a magical object and indestructible by non-magical means but spells, magical effects and magic weapons treat the statue as pure gold, a weak metal. If the creature does become damaged while turned into a statue, he suffers from similar deformities when he reverts to his original state.

Zombie Drops: A squat, rectangular tin box containing 2d6+2 hard green pills the shape of raisins or (More accurately) shriveled nuggets of dead flesh. They emit a faint sulfurous stench but the outer surface tastes of nothing. If swallowed, the creature’s skin turns grey, rots and peels and their eyes sink and darken over the course of one minute. Afterwards they physically appear as a zombie for 3d4 hours and whenever they are targeted by a magical effect of any kind they are considered a living creature or an undead, whichever is most beneficial at the time. Unintelligent undead will not attack them and the consumer gains advantage on any check made to pass themselves off as an undead. Intelligent undead are not immediately aware that the consumer is actually alive. While under the effects of the drops, a creature’s speed is reduced by half and whenever they are injured by radiant damage, they suffer additional radiant damage equivalent to a shortsword (1d6)

Mending Stones: A leather tool pouch containing a collection of (3d4+1) smooth, round stones emblazoned with the sigil of Moradin glowing softly with the inner light of a forge. The bearer can activate one of the stones by touching it to a broken object and speaking the word “Mend” in Dwarvish. The stone then flares as bright as a hot forge and will repair any breaks or tears in a single object smaller than a five foot cube, such as a cracked anvil, broken door, rent armor or torn cloak. As long as the breaks or tears are no longer than five feet in any dimension, it is mended, leaving no trace of the former damage. If the area is larger, such as a large crumbling wall of crumbling masonry the stone only repairs a single five-foot cubed area. The stones can physically repair a magic item or construct, but the can’t restore magic to such an object. The stones can be used to repair animated constructs which restores the equivalent of three daggers worth of hit points (3d4). Each Mending Stone can only be used once, after activation the warmth and light within it permanently fades away.

Paladin's Placebo: A sealed glass vial containing a thick Randomly Colored oil-like potion. A single drop taken orally of this medicine will satisfy any craving for any drug or substance the user is addicted to and perfectly suppress any withdrawal symptoms from said narcotics. If consumed, the elixir also helps to clear the drinker’s body of the drug’s lingering effects and one dose counts as a full 24 hour period of detoxing for the purposes of overcoming an addiction. Paladin's Placebo enforces this sobriety without fail and for 24 hours after consuming a dose the drinker cannot become intoxicated by any means and feels no physical or mental effects from consuming drugs or alcohol (See note). When first found the vial contains 5d20+5 doses worth of the potion. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that Paladin's Placebo was invented by a former herbalist drug dealer that was coached by a paladin to quit their habit and change their life around. Ironically, the supply of the drug is tightly controlled by the Paladin order. ---Note: The wielder is still suffers from poison damage and can gain the poisoned condition. The wielder can still die as a result of consuming too much of a drug or alcohol and may in fact be more prone to it as they are unable to properly judge how much they have already taken.

SkullCap: A strange object that seems to be half hat and half funnel. The shape of the lower rim clearly shows where the hat may rest over the ears, but the top spreads open into a copper funnel. If this cap is placed on the head of a dead humanoid and a keg of wine or ale is poured down the funnel, the spirit of the deceased will return and answer one question (The spirit will answer truthfully though unclearly, as if inebriated). The corpse must still have a skull and mouth and can’t be undead. There is a 1 in 20 chance upon each use that the cap will split asunder and so be destroyed.

Chest of Preserving: A sturdy travel chest with multiple handholds designed to be easily carried or strapped into a wagon. The chest is 2½ feet long, 1½ feet wide, and 1 foot tall with a half-barrel lid. Food and other perishable items do not age or decay while inside the Chest of Preserving. The chest has a strong but nonmagical lock, which can be picked with thieves' tools. Smashing the lock or any other part of the chest renders it nonmagical.

The Devil’s Dice: A pair of six sided dice made from the knucklebones of sinners and pipped with the ichor of fiends. Once per day when the bearer makes an attack roll, ability check or saving throw, he can utter a request for profane support at a cost of a lien on his being and adds 2d6 to the roll. Once this is done an infernal mark appears somewhere noticeable on the bearer’s body (Typically the hands and face) symbolizing the deal with the devil. The lien is equal to the result of the 2d6 in days and the mark disappears at the end of the bargain. If the bearer is already marked, the deal is extended by that many days. While the wilder is marked, he suffers disadvantage on death saving throws and if he dies, his body and equipment is consumed in black flame leaving a greasy char and his soul becomes owned by the devil and cannot be raised from the dead or resurrected by any means. While marked, the bearer has disadvantage on attack rolls against fiends and on saving throws against their spells and special abilities.

Daimonori: An occult pendant that is hot to the touch, a heat that seeps into your core and fills you with a new confidence. You're unsure if this power is entirely your own, but its intoxicating lure is seemingly beyond your power to resist. Whenever the bearer casts a spell that does damage, he increases the result of one of the spell’s damage rolls by 1.

Potion of Animal Friendship: A sealed glass vial containing a sludgy solution that when shaken, reveals various chunks and bits from different animals. Sniffing at the contents, you are alarmed to find that its odor is even less appetizing than the off-putting presentation. If consumed, the drinker gains advantage on any ability checks to interact socially with beasts and they understand the drinker’s words empathically, though they cannot speak back. These effects last for one hour and there are 2d4+2 doses of the potion when found

Ring of Minor Telekinesis: A brass ring set with a clear piece of quartz crudely chipped into the shape of a human hand. When not worn and someone attempts to pick it up, the band seems to leap into the creature’s hand at the last moment and if flinging itself into their grasp. The bearer can use an action equivalent to attacking to call on the ring’s power to create an invisible hand of telekinetic force that can manipulate objects, open an unlocked door or container, stow or retrieve an item from an open container, or pour the contents out of a vial. The hand cannot be created or move farther than 30 feet from the bearer and it cannot attack, activate magical items or carry more than 10 pounds. The hand lasts for 1 minute, until dismissed by the bearer or if it is ever more than 30 feet away from the bearer.

Wand of Binding: A heavy wand of black iron. Observer’s eyes are immediately drawn to the end of the instrument, which has been meticulously fashioned into the shape of a manacle. On the wielder’s turn if he has not moved yet, he can activate the wand as part of casting a spell, which causes his speed to become 0 until the end of his turn. When the wand is activated as part of casting a spell that reduces the target’s movement speed or imposes the grapple, restrained or paralyzed condition, all creatures targeted by the spell subtract 1d4 from the spell’s first saving throw.

Liandry's Torment: A mask seemingly made of porcelain but does not shatter when impacted, its origins unknown. The covering is extremely cold to the touch, and as it’s pulled over the bearer’s face, the pupils of his eyes slowly expand until nothing but blackness remains. The object empowers the bearer’s targeted magic and whenever the bearer hits a creature with a spell attack, the victim burns briefly with a dark flame, suffering a dagger’s worth of necrotic damage (1d4) in addition to the spell’s effects. If the spell target’s multiple creatures, each creature hit with a spell attack suffers this damage and if the bearer lands multiple spell attacks upon a single target, the necrotic damage is compounded.

Righteous Glory: A beautiful winged helm of burnished gold with a light and open design, allowing it to be used by martial mages. Whenever the bearer casts a spell of 1st-level or higher, he regains hit points equal to the level of the spell slot expended. The bearer must be proficient in light armor in order to attune to the helm and benefit from its power. The bearer must wear the helm for at least one hour in order to attune to it.

Tear of the Goddess: A deep blue sapphire pendant, encased within blue glass, shaped like a teardrop. The object is overflowing with emotional energy and should the bearer hold it against his bear skin and concentrate on it he alternates wildly between wanting to shed tears of joy and grief, as if the jewel is the pinnacle of both. The Tear contains 1 charge that replenishes each day at dawn. Whenever the bearer scores a natural 1 or 20 on a spell attack roll, he may choose to activate the pendant, expending the charge and regaining the spell slot used to cast the spell. Furthermore whenever a creature is forced to make a saving throw against one of the bearer’s spells and scores a natural 1 or 20, he may choose to activate the pendant, expending the charge and regaining the spell slot used to cast the spell.

Eldritch Elixir: A leaded glass vial filled the ichor of an elder being whose eldritch form is maddening to behold. When sipped, aberrant corruption floods the drinker's body, spawning an unnatural mutation. The drinker feels a momentary flare of agonizing pain somewhere on his person as a ten-foot-long tentacle bursts forth from the site, bypassing armor and clothing. The sinuous tentacle is heavily muscled like a long dry tongue covered in irregular blemishes, unnatural mottled coloring, small patches of hair and misshapen areas of perfectly smooth or heavily calloused skin. The abnormal limb is prehensile and can stretch out to ten feet allowing the drinker to grab and hold (But not wield) objects, initiate grapples, shoves or other combat maneuvers and deliver touch attacks or spells that have a range of touch, all with the increased reach. The limb can even be swung with force as an unarmed attack the drinker is considered proficient with that deals as much damage as a club with a reach of ten feet. The tentacle last for one hour before retracting back into the drinker's body. When found the vial contains 1d3+1 sips of the ichor.

Guardwell’s Alarming Caltrops: A thick, reinforced leather bag of otherwise unassuming caltrops that would be indistinguishable from their more common counterparts were it not for the tiny flecks of sapphire dust embedded in the metal and a whisper-soft hum identify their nature. These twisted spiked were developed to not only slow intruders but to announce their presence as well. Whenever a creature steps on them, the caltrops let out a loud bang that can be heard up to 100 feet away. The sound of the noise is diminished by solid barriers such as walls or doors. A creature within ten feet of the caltrops can utter the command word found on their leather bag to cause them to all fling themselves back into the sack so they can be used elsewhere. Retrieving the caltrops this way takes an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell.

Hush Money: A small coin pouch containing 2d4+2 gold coins that appear to be ordinary bit of currency on the surface, but feature a pair of lips with a finger held up to them as if shushing the viewer. As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can take out a coin and toss or flip it upwards and catch it to mute the area. For the next minute, no sound can be created within or pass through a 20-foot-radius sphere centered on where the bearer flipped the coin. Any creature or object entirely inside the sphere is immune to thunder damage, and creatures are deafened while entirely inside it. Casting a spell that includes a verbal component is impossible there. Once used, the coin’s golden sheen fades to a dull silver color and it cannot be used again.

Belt of the Monkey: A metal belt made of silver monkeys locked arm in arm with tiny pieces of jade in the primate’s eyes. The bearer feels the tickling urge to treat the world as a playground by swinging on objects, climbing trees, and scaling buildings. As an action equivalent to drawing a weapon, the bearer can command the belt to animate, transforming it into a prehensile tail under the bearer's control. While it cannot be used to wield weapons or shields, the tail can retrieve small, stowed objects carried on his person then hold and manipulate them about as well as the bearer's normal limbs (Though any activity requiring fingers is beyond the tail’s capabilities). The bearer can command the tail to return to its belt form as an action equivalent to drawing a weapon.

Gauntlets of Titangrip: A pair of hefty mitts made of a secretive dwarven iron alloy and are carved with runes on the backhand and palms. The knuckles are embellished with stout talons. The gauntlets greatly enhance the bearer’s grip, allowing him to wrestle with creatures twice his size and win. When worn, the bearer counts as one size larger than he is for the purposes of grappling, including initiating, maintaining or resisting a grapple check. Whenever the bearer makes a grapple check, he can roll 1d4 and add the number rolled to the grapple check.

Rod of the Grave Titan: A leaden rod wrapped in the leathery skin of an undead giant. At each end of the implement is an inverted pyramid with skull motifs carved into it. Twice per day as an action equivalent to attacking, the wielder can choose an undead creature within 60 feet and cause them to grow to titanic proportions. The undead and everything it is wearing and carrying doubles in all dimensions, and its weight is multiplied by eight. This growth increases its size by one category (From medium to large for example) and while enlarged it has advantage on skill checks and saving throws that rely on strength. The undead’s weapons also grow to match its new size and while enlarged, the creature’s melee attacks deal a dagger’s worth of additional damage (1d4). These effects last for one minute before the undead and its equipment shrink back to normal size. The bearer can end this effect early at any time and the effect also ends if the bearer is no longer holding the rod.

Honeyed Mourning Cloth: A thin black scarf made of silk, embroidered in gold thread with a hexagon pattern that lines one edge. It smells strongly of flowers and fresh honey, and leaves a sweet residue when handled. When draped over an object, the Honeyed Mourning Cloth renders it completely silent. The silenced object must be completely covered to be affected, but the cloth can muffle everything from a blaring warhorn to a small animal’s heartbeat. The scarf is 3 feet long and 1 foot wide.

Empty Dance Card: An antique paper dance card in excellent condition, printed with twelve dances and spaces for a lady to record the men she has promised each one to. Linework flowers and the silhouettes of a dancing couple decorate the margins. A short length of ribbon is tied through a hole at one corner, then knotted at the end to form a bracelet loop. Looking through the hole of the dance card reveals thin silver chains connecting people who have made physical contact with each other in the past fortnight. The mess of chains this creates in populated areas can make distinguishing individual links difficult, but possible if two people are standing close together.

Figurine of Wondrous Power (Polar Bear): A carved bone statuette of an artic bear small enough to fit in a pocket. When the item is available to be activated, the figuring is cloaked in a detailed illusion causing it to look and feel stunningly realistic. During this time the miniature bear ripples with muscle under its soft white fur. Its black nose is like a small lump of pure coal, the eyes obsidian beads. One paw after another (Each the size of a serving dish in its active form) lift lazily and thumps unto the illusionary ice it stands on. When the white bear stands and opens its dark mouth, you feel the terrifying presence of a pure savage wearing the coat of an angel. As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can speak the command word and throw the figurine to a point on the ground within 30 feet and the object grows into a full-sized polar bear if there is room for it to do so. The beast is friendly to the bearer and his companions. It understands the bearer`s languages and obeys his spoken commands. Should the bearer issue no commands, the creature defends itself but takes no other actions. The bear reverts back to its statuette form after ten minutes and changes back early if it drops to 0 hit points or if the bearer uses an action equivalent to attacking to speak the command word while touching it. Once the figurine has been activated in this way, it cannot be used again until a number have days have passed equal to the amount of hit points the polar bear was missing from its hit point total plus 1. ---Note: If the bear was missing 10 hit points it can’t be used again until 11 days had passed. If the polar bear was reduced to 0 hit points, it cannot be used again until a number of days equal to its full hit point total plus one.

Deathoscope: A collapsible brass spyglass with no lenses. Looking at a corpse through this implement will show a color indicating how long the creature has been dead. White = Not dead. Purple = Less than one hour. Blue = 1-24 hours dead. Green = 1-365 days dead. Yellow = 1-10 years dead. Orange = 10-100 years dead. Red = More than 100 years.

Phamea's Pocket Steed: A small brass whistle, shaped like the head of a horse and stained with age. When the whistle is blown an extremely high-pitched note is emitted, summoning a magical steed that serves just like a trained warhorse. It will stay until the whistle is blown again which unsummons it. However, if the horse is slain, its body disappears, and the whistle will never emit a sound again.

Dragon’s Tear: An enormous green emerald gemstone that hangs from a silver chain. Knowledgeable PC's are aware that legends says the emerald was formed from the tears of the Mother of Dragons as she mourned the death of the Great Serpent. While worn, whenever the bearer makes a saving throw against poison or being poisoned, he can roll 1d4 and add the number rolled to the saving throw. Furthermore, whenever the bearer suffers poison damage, he can roll 1d4 and reduce the total poison damage taken by the number rolled to a minimum of zero. The pendant provides neither of these protections if the poison originates from a dragon or draconic creature.

Crosswind Medallion: A weathered medallion bearing a carving of an arc of leaves blowing in a strong wind. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize it as the iconic adornment of Silent Joff, a long-dead archer who never spoke and never missed. Wearing this item against the skin creates a strong breeze that constantly surrounds the bearer, redirecting enemy arrows away. Whenever the bearer is hit by a ranged weapon such as an arrow, bolt or bullet, he can roll 1d8 and reduce the total damage taken by the number rolled to a minimum of 0.

Everfull Begging Bowl: A Large worn wooden bowl whose outside is humbly decorated with motifs of the God of Sacrifice, the archangel of charity and the patron saints of beggars. Once per day at noon, if the bearer has no silver or gold on his person he can choose to gain a level of exhaustion as if going a night without sleep and cause the bowl to fill with 1d100 copper pieces.

Slate of Memory: A cracked writing slate that attracts the eye and projects an unpleasant aura. Anything written or drawn upon the slate will be remembered perfectly by the author as long as the marks remain upon the slate. The memory is purged completely and utterly the moment its marks are removed from the slate.

Cantrips and You; A Beginner's Guide: A thick, leather-bound book emblazoned with arcane symbols. The work is a primer on simple magical theory and contains instructions of the basic mechanics of spellcasting. A creature who has read the volume for at least an hour a day for the past week obtains a rudimentary understanding of the esoteric arts and gains the ability to cast one wizard cantrip of their choice that does not deal damage. The nature of spellcasting is demanding and precise and should the creature not keep up with studying the book for an hour per day they fall out of practice and must spend another week pouring over the tome’s pages. A creature who has gained a cantrip from reading the book can switch it to a different cantrip that doesn’t deal damage after reading the book for one hour. If the reader has spent 365 cumulative hours reading the book over the course of one year, he becomes proficient with one wizard cantrip of his choice that does not deal damage and no longer needs to consult the book each day to cast it.

Broadsheet’s Booklet: A wooden clipboard-like pad containing a hundred blank sheets of cheap pulp paper. Anything written on the first page is duplicated through the entire stack of 100. Once per day, when all the pages have been removed, it refills itself. 24 hours after being removed from the pad, the papers disintegrates.

Death Seeking Lantern: A bullseye lantern made from polished brass and bears the image of the sun engraved over the lens. It burns with a pure white light when lit, which reacts to undead creatures, causing them to give off a faint orange glow when exposed to it. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that traveling undead hunters will make use of these lanterns when meeting strangers in unfamiliar territory. If an undead creature is disguising themselves with magical or mundane means, any creatures observing the undead within the lantern’s bright light gains advantage on checks made to pierce the disguise and recognize them as an undead creature. While the lantern is filled with oil and lit, the bearer can focus the bullseye shutter into a fine point and utter a command word, causing the oil to burn with holy fire, casting tight beam of searing light forward. The wielder can target on creature he can see within 60 feet and activate the lantern as an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell. The lantern is perfectly accurate at close range and if the target is undead and is within 5-30 feet, it suffers radiant damage equivalent to a halberd plus the wielder’s character level (1d10+level) and half that damage if the target is 35-60 feet from the wielder. Targets who are not undead, suffer no damage. Once activated in this way the lantern becomes empty and the light goes out. It takes two hands and one full round to refill the lantern with another pint of oil.

Dread Pirate’s Hat: A black felt bicorne hat with gold trim along its edges and it prominently features white skull-and-crossbones symbol across its front. The hat subtly alters the bearer’s appearance to make them seem more fearsome. They appear taller, with sharper features and have a number of scars crisscrossing their face. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that not every pirate who sails the seas is as bloodthirsty as the legends claim. Some find that the threat of violence rather than violence itself is a very good motivator. Whenever the bearer makes an intimidate check he can roll 1d4 and add the result to the total skill check. Furthermore, the bearer can cause his voice to boom up to three times as loud as normal allowing him to threaten passing ships from farther away.

Word Bomb: A one-inch long clear crystal cone that is small enough to fit in the palm of one's hand. To activate a Word Bomb simply hold the cone up to your mouth, squeeze it and speak a trigger word. Activating a Word Bomb causes its color to shift from clear to a smoky grey. A Word Bomb stays in its activated state until the trigger word is spoken again within a 20-foot radius of it. Once the trigger word is spoken again the Word Bomb explodes dealing five shortswords of thunder damage (5d6) to all creatures and objects within a 20-foot radius of it. Any creature within the blast that suffers more than 15 damage (After accounting for damage resistances or immunities) also becomes deafened for one minute. This consumes the Word Bomb entirely. A Word Bomb cannot be activated or triggered in an area under the effect of a magical silence spell.

The Yeetering: A simple silver ring precisely etched with the image of a catapult on it. The ring is bound by fey trickery and its wielder is doomed to cause unintended mischief when he least expects it but almost always at the most inopportune times. Whenever the wielder touches a new object (See Note) that is no more than three feet across on one side and weights no more than 50 pounds, the DM rolls 1D100. If the result is a 100, the item launches itself at inhuman speed in a random direction in an apparent effort to get as far away from the wielder as possible. The item only stops moving when it hits something at which time it falls to the ground unharmed, dealing no injuries and suffering no damage. The ring is considered cursed and cannot be removed short or lopping off the finger its on or by the use of curse breaking magics. ---A “new object” should be something the wielder has never physically interacted with before, but as the ring is fey cursed, it would not be surprising for it to launch objects whenever its funny to do so.

The Skull of Scouting: An obsidian skull whose lower jaw yawns open. A candle with a blue flame that provides no light sits in the open mouth. This skull acts as a hooded lantern to the attuned wielder, providing bright bluish light for 30 feet and dim light for an additional 30ft. Creatures not attuned to the object are not able to perceive this light whatsoever. To attune to the Skull, the bearer must spend one hour alone with it staring into the candle’s flame in a dark area.

Lute of Draconic Presence: A wooden lute inlaid with carvings of red and blue dragons in flight. The strings are made from the intestines of an adult dragon and have a metallic sheen that sparkle in the light. Plucking a single string to produce a pure, low resonating note that can be felt in one's bones. By strumming the instrument, the player can produce a deep reverberating note that causes every non-dragon to become shaken as though a primal evolutionary fear of dragons drove a spike of fear into the core of their being. As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, a wielder proficient with lutes can play the instrument with a perform skill check causing all non-draconic creatures within 50 feet (Excluding the wielder but including his allies) to make a wisdom saving throw. Any creature whose saving throw is lower than the wielder's perform check, becomes frightened of the wielder until the end of the wielder's next turn. A creature who succeeds in the saving throw gains advantage on all saving throws made to resist the fear effect for the next minute. This mind-affecting fear effect and creature must be able to hear the lute to be affected by it.

Eldritch Obelisk: A foot-long twisted onyx pyramidion carved with countless staring eyes. Each creature that stares directly at the warped artifact for more than a few moments suffers an intense migraine as fragmented visions of the future assail them. The omen is only ever of the viewer’s own life and always sooner than later. The viewer must roll 1d20 and record the result. At any point in the future, that creature may change the result of any attack roll, saving throw or skill check of a creature they can see (Including themselves) to that result. Once they do so they lose this ability, and they cannot receive a new vision from the obelisk for a year and a day.

Oil of the Martyr: A sealed black iron flask filled with oil made from the rendered fat of burned martyrs and mixed with sacred herbs grown on holy ground. If a person's head is anointed with the aromatic substance from the vessel, death will spare the creature. The next time the anointed creature would drop to 0 hit points as a result of taking damage, he instead drops to 1 hit point, and the effect ends. If the spell is still in effect when the creature is subjected to an effect that would kill it instantaneously without dealing damage, that hostile effect is instead negated against the target, and the oil wears off. When found the flask contains 1d4+2 uses of the oil.

Palegray Blood: A small vial, containing a milky, dreg-filled, grey liquid known as “Palegray blood”, said to have been taken from a race of gelatinous creatures from beyond the stars. When a creature ingests or injects this liquid, their body becomes gelatinous for a short period of time - roughly 1 hour per dosage of Palegray blood. While gelatinous, a creature has advantage on checks made to escape grapples, may climb vertical surfaces and surfaces parallel to the ground, and may squeeze through gaps as small as one inch wide. However, clothes and equipment being worn are not affected by the Palegray blood, and may need to be left behind in order to enter spaces that are too small for them to pass through.

Palegray Blood: A small vial, containing a milky, dreg-filled, grey liquid known as “Palegray blood”, said to have been taken from a race of gelatinous creatures from beyond the stars. When a creature ingests or injects this liquid, their body becomes gelatinous for one hour which confers many advantages at the cost of their well-being, as they suffer two daggers wroth of poison damage (2d4). While gelatinous, a creature has advantage on checks made to escape grapples or restraints and can climb vertical surfaces and surfaces parallel to the ground and may squeeze through gaps as small as one inch wide. However, clothes and equipment being worn are not affected by the Palegray blood, and may need to be left behind in order to enter spaces that are too small for them to pass through.

Transmogrification Tonic: A ruby vial filled with a mixture of organs and viscera from several types of eldritch aberrations whose mutable forms were in constant flux while they lived. When consumed, the drinker gains control over total control over his physical form and can mold his own flesh as if it was wet clay. The process is painful for a few moments before the drinker is able to disassociate from his nervous system and then it’s just unsettlingly. For the next hour the drinker can change his appearance at will and can decide what he looks like, including his height, weight, sex, facial features, sound of his own voice, hair length, coloration, and distinguishing characteristics, if any. He can make himself appear as a member of another race, though none of his statistics change. He can appear taller or shorter but not enough that he moves into a different size category. His general shape stays the same and retains the same number and arrangement of limbs. For one hour after consuming the tonic, the drinker is considered an aberration in addition to his creature type and as an action equivalent to attacking the he can change his appearance in this way again. These are true physical changes that hold up to a touch or medical inspection and after the hour is up the traces of eldritch power fades, rendering magic detecting spells useless to discerning that the drinker was supernaturally altered. At the end of the hour the tonic’s transmutative effects fade but any final changes remain, leaving the drinker’s appearance permanently altered to whatever his last form was. The drinker is instinctively perfectly aware of his own “natural” form and while under the effect of the tonic can change back to his original shape without difficulty.

Primordial Calabash: A bottle shaped gourd with smooth, light green skin and white flesh. The lush fruit is ripe and looks recently plucked despite not having been on a vine for months at least. It thrums with primal power and feels warm and wonderful, like bright sunlight on your skin after being trapped inside all winter. The sealed gourd was grown in a sacred druid grove, its roots reaching deep into ley lines of power soaking up supernatural energy like water. The calabash is filled with a raw juice that is infused with this power and sipping of the nectar will allow a creature to briefly gain a measure of the primal magic as it disperses through the body and may solidify that power as part of his being. Success will grant a preternatural benefit but failure will degrade the drinker’s mind and body. A creature can sip from the gourd as an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell and choose one of his ability scores (Such as Strength or Wisdom) and roll 1d10. On a result of 3-10, the drinker increases that ability score by +1 (To a maximum of the limit for PC ability scores) but on a 1 or 2, that ability score is decreased by -1. This change is a permanent effect and the calabash’s contents cannot affect the same ability score more than once. When found the Calabash contains 1d3+1 sips of its primordial essence.

Potions of Arms: A sealed glass vial in the shape of a clenched fist, filled with a clear liquid that changes to match the skin tone of whoever is holding it. When held, the bearer’s arms and sides tingle warmly, feeling strong and tough. If sipped, a primordial deluge of raw magic coursing through the drinker’s body forcing an evolutionary surge. The drinker experiences a strange tingling sensation under his shoulders and a secondary pair of arms burst out of his sides, bypassing armor and clothing. The extra arms lack the refined muscle memory of the drinker’s normal limbs and are considered non-dominate or off-hands which are capable of holding objects (But not wielding them) and performing basic tasks but nothing that requires finesse or skill. The additional limbs are as well muscled their counterparts, allowing the caster to excel at tasks that simply require overwhelming strength or sheer brute force. The caster is able to give himself a couple of helping hands and gains advantage on all strength checks and any rolls made to grapple, climb or wrestle. The extra arms last for 8 hours before retracting back into the caster’s body. When found the vial contains 1d3+1 sips of the potion.

The Wand of Fireworks: A wand consisting of a thin shaft of wood that holds a glass sphere at its tip. The sphere contains a dazzling display of sparks and flashes that crackle when held. The wand has 7 charges. While holding it, the bearer can use an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell to expend 1 of its charges and create a harmless burst of multicolored light at a point he can see up to 60 feet away. The burst of light is accompanied by a crackling noise that can be heard up to 300 feet away. The light is as bright as a torch flame but lasts only a few seconds. The wand regains 1d6 + 1 expended charges daily at dawn. If the bearer expends the wand's last charge, roll a d20. On a 1, the wand erupts in a harmless pyrotechnic display and is destroyed.

The Box of Princely Comeliness: A comprehensive, magical make-up box filled with make-ups and powders, blushes and rouges, small bottles of scented oils and perfumes. When used correctly The box makes the ugly comely, the tongue tied more dashing, and the social butterfly into an alluring magnet of attention. It can be used as a disguise kit and when used in this way, the user to adds 1d4 to the result of any skill checks made to disguise themselves with it as well as any Deception or Perform checks made to pass themselves off as the person of character they have disguised themselves as. To benefit from this, the bearer must spend ten minutes applying the makeup and the benefits last for 2d4 hours. The box replenishes its stock of powders, oils, lotions, and accessories every day at dawn.

Doom Siren: A tiny clockwork box lets out an ominous dirge audible up to 100 feet when an intelligent creature dies within 100 feet of it.

Devil Salts: A sealed leaded vial filled with course red salts. Distilled from the molten sweat of demons, a whiff of these crystals fills a creature with fiendish resilience at the cost of a few seconds of sanity. It is best saved from emergencies... As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, he bearer can open the vial and hold it to the face of an unconscious or dying creature. The downed creature regains a dagger’s worth of hit points per character level (1d4 X their level) and becomes violently conscious as they screaming and flail in terror for a few moments. The creature immediately jumps to their feet and takes the dodge action. The revived creature is considered frightened and cannot take actions or movement until the end of his next turn other than to stand up, dodge defensively and scream as loudly as possible. When first found the vial contains 6d6 uses of the Devil Salts.

Mages Manacles: A pair of bulky brass manacles held together by a sturdy brass bar inscribed with abjuration runes. The bindings prevent the creature from casting spells that require hand movements or somatic components. A creature who is bound by both manacles cannot regain spell slots by any means, including through rest, class or racial abilities or by use of potions or wondrous items.

Compass of the Homesick: A compass with a small compartment under the dial which can be filled with earth, sand, dirt or small pebbles. The compass dial features two needles. The small needle always points towards the magnetic north. However, the large needle always points towards the location the material in the compartment was taken from, allowing the bearer to always find their way to their home ground. If the compartment is empty, filled with any other type of material, or material taken from another plane of existence, the needle slowly spins around aimlessly.

Martyr’s Vow: A steel amulet painted with a palm marred by a crimson swirl. The amulet can be used as holy symbol for the purposes of casting spells or channeling divine might. When a creature you can see within 30 feet of you takes damage, as a reaction equivalent to an attack of opportunity the bearer can reduce the damage the target takes by the equivalent of a longsword (1d8) to a minimum of 0. Each time the bearer does this, he suffers the amount of damage that he spared the target from and this damage cannot be reduced in any way.

Moss Quiver: A soft leather quiver sporting an inner lining fashioned from moss. It is said that any arrow placed within will make no noise on impact. Although hard to believe, this species of moss certainly has a reputation from the marshes it is found within. The strange plant quickly covers projectiles placed within it with a layer of soft, sound absorbing moss but the material quickly dries out and dies when away from the quiver. When the bearer is hidden from a creature and misses it with a ranged weapon attack with a projectile or thrown weapon drawn from the quiver (arrow, bullet, javelin, etc.) that round, making the attack doesn't reveal the wielder's position.

Scroll of Shielding: A venerable spell scroll decorated with a crude drawing of a warrior's shield displaying an unknown crest of a kingdom long lost. A bearer capable of casting spells can read out the written incantation (As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell) to grant themselves or a creature they can see within 30 feet a spectral shield that floats around them creating a protective barrier. This consumes the scroll but for the next hour, the target’s armor class or physical defenses are increased as if he was properly wielding a shield. The wielder may benefit from the armor class bonus (Typically a +2) even if he is already wielding a shield.

Potion of Witchy Healing: A hag-brewed healing draught that does the job but at a terrible price to one’s taste buds and stomach. The fetid potion knits bones, seals flesh and stanches the flow of blood from mortal wounds. As an action equivalent to attacking, the bearer can drink it himself or administer it to another conscious or unconscious creature. The drinker immediate regains three dagger’s worth of hit points (3d4+3). For one hour after consuming the potion, the drinker's digestive system is so upset that he gains no benefits of any kind from consuming a potion, elixir or helpful alchemical substance.

Death's Head: A grossly mutated Random Humanoid skull filled with the most virulent poxes of Nurgle the Plaguelord and sealed with blood-laced wax. It explodes when thrown at the enemy, showering them in filthy pus and rot. As an action equivalent to attacking, the wielder can throw Death's Head as a weapon they're considered proficient with at an enemy within 30 feet. On a successful attack, Death's Head deals five daggers worth of poison damage (5d4) and if the target suffers 10 points of damage or more, it is also poisoned for one minute. The damage that Death's Head deals ignores resistances to poison damage but not immunity.

Instrument of Illusions: A Random Musical Instrument that is an exquisite example of its kind, and is superior to an ordinary instrument in every way. While playing this musical instrument, the bearer can create harmless and obviously illusory effects within a 30 foot radius. These effects can include images, shapes, colors, sound, movement, and slight changes in temperature. Anyone experiencing these illusions is aware that the illusions are emanating from the instrument.

Murderer’s Gloves: A pair of gloves made of thin black leather and have a silver dagger embroidered on the dorsal side of the hand. While worn, the wielder's Sneak Attack damage dice are increased from d6's to d8's.

Moonstone: A warm blond stone the size and shape of a chestnut that feels smooth and oily. It glows with soft light like a brave candle when in areas of darkness.

Whispers of the Forgotten Tome: A small, weathered leather-bound book is filled with cryptic symbols and ancient text. Its pages emanate a faint glow, hinting at the secrets it holds. When opened, the pages softly rustle as if whispering forgotten knowledge and consulting the tome can grant limited insight into hidden truths. Once per day, the bearer can ask a single question about their immediate surroundings, and the book will provide a brief and enigmatic but truthful answer. The answer may come in the form of a riddle, a cryptic phrase, or a symbolic image. The interpretation of the answer is left to the bearer's discretion. Additionally, the presence of the book may occasionally attract the attention of scholars, sages, or those intrigued by ancient lore. This can lead to unexpected encounters, opportunities for knowledge exchange, or even quests related to forgotten mysteries.

Whispering Coin of Serendipity: A small, silver coin with intricate engravings on both sides. The object appears slightly worn, hinting at its mysterious history and when held, it emits a faint, soothing aura. The coin is fickle and grant its possessor a run of unexpected luck for good or ill when called upon when the bearer flips it and tries his fortune. Once per day as an action equivalent to attacking, the bearer can flip the coin and must roll 1d20. On an even numbered result, the bearer adds +1d4 to the result of any attack roll, saving throw or skill check he makes for the next 24 hours. On an odd numbered result, the bearer must subtract 1d4 from the result of any attack roll, saving throw and skill checks he makes for the next 24 hours.

Battlemage's Wristguard: An exquisite accessory crafted from dark brown leather and adorned with intricate brass metalwork. Wisps of blue and white arcane energy streak across the leather wristguard, forming mesmerizing cracks and patterns. Created as a basic defense for battlemages, it collects excess arcane power that’s emitted while the caster is channeling a spell and uses it to power a shield to guard the wearer from attacks and distractions. Whenever the bearer is actively concentrating on a spell, his Armor Class is increased as if he was properly wielding a shield (Typically a +2) and the wielder adds +1d4 to the result of any checks made to maintain concentration on the spell.

Urchin’s Reminder: A kelp bracelet beaded with irregularly round and dimpled carvings of ironoak; it is always damp against the skin. The band holds a simple dweomer crafted by a mercenary captain who was seeking enlightenment and wanted to stop his emotions getting the best of him. Whenever the bearer gains the Charmed or Frightened condition, spines erupt from the dimpled beads, focusing his mind and drawing a trickle of blood and dealing 1 point of piercing damage to the bearer. If the damage allows the bearer to reroll a saving throw against the effect causing him to be Charmed or Frightened, he adds +1d4 to the result of the reroll.

Castaway's Compass: A small, well-worn brass compass with a rich patina. When the compass is submerged in seawater, the needle changes from red to green and spins to point towards the nearest dry land.

Diem: A ring with cerulean strands intertwining themselves with similar white strands. Engraved upon the blue strands are symbols denoting the grace of water, and upon the white, symbols denoting the swift, fierceness of air. Once per day the bearer may activate the ring, allowing the bearer to activate a class ability, racial feature or other magic item that is only usable once short or long rest (Or once per day) that the bearer has already used for day. Activating the ring takes the same action as the power or ability that the bearer is trying to reactivate. When Diem is first found it has 1d4 charges on it. When Diem is activated, roll 1d20 and if the rolled number is the same or less than the number of charges on the ring, it crumbles into ashes and is destroyed. If the rolled number is greater than the amount of charges, it remains intact but gains 1 charge. There is no way to remove charges from the ring. ---Note: This item is vaguely worded and in theory could be activated to recast a wizard's highest level spell or to use Arcane Recovery again, it could be used for a fighter's Action Surge or Second Wind or grant a cleric another Channel Divinity. If the item is too strong, the DM is free to add more charges to it when the PC's find it or to make it gain 1 charge on an ability that the PC would regain on a short rest and 2 charges for something regained on a long rest.

Primal Bracers: A pair of matching silver bracers decorated with intricate leaf patterns made of emeralds. Their beauty alone is enough for it to be worth something but the minor power it possesses over the natural world adds considerably to its value. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that wondrous items like these were created by the Druid Dyonis and used to train and help new druids to the order. As an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell, the bearer can instantly make a flower bloom, a seed pod open, or a leaf bud bloom. Alternatively he can create an instantaneous, harmless sensory effect, such as falling leaves, a puff of wind, the sound of a small animal, or the faint order of skunk. The effect must fit in a 5-foot cube. Lastly the bearer can create a tiny, harmless sensory effect that predicts what the weather will be at his location for the next 24 hours. The effect might manifest as a golden orb for clear skies, a cloud for rain, falling snowflakes for snow, and so on. This effect persists until the start of the bearer’s next turn.

Cursed Cloak of Curses: A cursed cloak riddled with sewn on hexes, signs of ill omens and unlucky patterns, that would cause any superstitious viewer to want to throw it into the nearest fire. Closer inspect reveals even more invitations of calamity woven into the cloth itself; A small shard from a broken mirror, a hair from a black cat, skin of a toad, the feather of a dead raven, a vial of spilled salt, a deformed opal, and so on. The intense mixture of dozens of different minor misfortunes all clashing together actually seems to protect its bearer rather than causing him hardship. No single source of bad luck wins out, each fighting with the other and banding together to ward off any additional curses. The wearer adds 1d4 to the result of any saving throws he makes to resist curse type spells or effects. This includes any additional saving throws the curse might impose or if the bearer is suffering from an ongoing curse, any regular saving throws to resist or break free. Unsurprising, the cloak emits a strong malignant aura and easily registers as a cursed item for anyone capable of detecting cursed objects.

Scales of Accounting: A brass merchant scale that includes a small balance, pans, and a suitable assortment of weights up to 2 pounds. With it, you can measure the exact weight of small objects, such as raw precious metals or trade goods, to help determine their worth. Furthermore, a bearer can place one hand on the scale and another hand on a pile of gold, silver, copper or platinum coins within a 5-foot cube, the bearer can will the pile to be converted to their exact equivalent value in gold, silver copper or platinum coins.

Goblin Birthing Knife: An old rusty dagger with a wide and forbidding blade, shaped like a serrated leaf to cause greatest bloodletting. Despite its decrepit appearance, the blade projects the most fell sense of dark sorcery. Within one minute of using the Goblin Birthing Knife to kill a humanoid creature of medium sized or larger, the wielder can spend an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell to slit open that corpse's belly to reveal a newly birthed (But fully grown) Goblin. This goblin will have a favorable disposition to its creator but is wicked in its stupidity. Each time it is used in this way roll 1d20 and on a result of a 1, the blade will break off, nullifying the enchantment.

Serpent Lens: A monocle that appears to have a vertical pupil and is rimmed with snake skin in a configuration allowing it to fit over a wearer's right eye, like an eyepatch, though it does not have a strap. It radiates vivimantic energy and registers as a cursed item to spells and abilities that can detect it. If pressed over an eye, the lens will burrow into the wearer's face, consuming the wearer's natural eye in the process. This replacement is quite painful, taking an entire minute to complete while the wearer writhes in agony and is completely incapacitated. Afterwards, the bearer’s normal vision is unaffected but he can detect and identify poison and poisonous creatures by sight as they’re surrounded by a faint aura. Strength and danger of specific poisons may be detected, but the amount of detail available will vary based on knowledge and experience. The wearer is considered attuned to the Serpent Lens which consumes an attunement slot. If the wearer is targeted by a Remove Curse effect, the Lens falls out harmlessly and the bearer’s eye reappears. Should the Lens be removed by force, the process is incredibly painful and the bearer’s eye socket remains empty. Either method of removes breaks the attunment to the Serpent Lens.

Tablet of Opening: A thin sheet of stone carved with runes of opening and destruction. If pressed against a door, chest or 5-foot section of wall no more than 3 feet thick and shattered with a hammer, the door so pressed will similarly shatter. Shattering the tablet requires an action equivalent to attacking or casting a spell but any creature capable of swinging a hammer is capable of it.

Worklight: A leather headband with a small circular geode attached. The sparkling rock is marked with harsh rudimentary runes. The bearer can tap the crude markings to activate it which causes the crystals within the stone to cast a bright purple-amethyst light in a 60-foot cone and dim light for an additional 60 feet. Tapping the geode again turns the light off.

Potion of Resting: A sealed glass vial containing a green bubbling potion which tastes like lime. If consumed, the drinker’s body immediately attempts falls into a lethargic half-sleep while his body attempts to repair itself. For the next minute the drinker suffers disadvantage on all attack rolls, skill checks and saving throws and his speed is reduced by half. At the end of the minute, the drinker gains all the benefits of a short rest, as if had been able to lie down comfortably for a full hour.

Diluted Oil of Sharpness: A sealed glass vial filled with clear, gelatinous oil that sparkles with tiny, ultrathin silver shards. The oil can coat one melee weapon or up to 5 pieces of ammunition. Applying the oil takes 1 minute. For 1 hour, the coated item is considered a +1 magical and silvered weapon.

Fishmoss Spores: A small flask of brackish water mixed with spores of Fishmoss. The flask of water must be inhaled, not drunk, a highly unpleasant experience akin to physically drowning. Upon imbibing the liquid, the spores cling and rapidly grow on the inside of the persons lungs, allowing them to breathe water instead of air. For the next twelve hours, the drinker becomes able to breathe water as if it were air, but cannot breathe air during this time. It does not give a swimming speed, only prevents drowning.

Quill of the Nighthawk: A writing quill is made from an ethereal nighthawk's flight feather that has been enchanted to enhance its connection to the Ethereal Plane. Once per week, the bearer can use the quill to write a message up to one-hundred words long with the quill on a piece of parchment and send it to a creature with which he is personally familiar with. The parchment instantly folds itself into a miniature nighthawk and travels through the Border Ethereal to deliver itself to the recipient on their plane of existence. The parchment nighthawk takes 12 hours to reach its recipient and is intangible while in transit: immune to all damage and conditions. The recipient can respond by writing on the parchment, which will re-fold and return itself to the bearer (Taking another 12 hours), so long as they do so within 1 hour of receiving the message. The sender can choose to have the parchment nighthawk recite the message it contains aloud upon delivery, doing so in the sender’s voice. Knowledgeable PC’s are aware that, once a year, the ethereal nighthawk molts and leaves feathers behind. These feathers are prized for their connection to the Border Ethereal and are excellent reagents in magical items or concoctions.

Alliance Rings: A pair of identical glass rings that shimmer from a stitch of eldritch energy that runs through their center. When two different creatures have each worn one of the rings for at least one hour, they both gain the ability to sense the direction and approximate distance from the other. They also revive a slight jolt (Which will wake them up) when the other ring wearer drops to 0 hit points.

Archaic Pact: A crumpled vellum scroll scrawled with an Infernal statement outlining the beliefs of a specific yet unnamed fiend. Whether or not you can read the language, any creature who studies the statement feels as though they can pronounce each word correctly, though they wouldn't understand the meaning. By repeatedly reciting the creed aloud as an action each round for one minute, the speaks cast Find Familiar, except the familiar takes the form of either an imp or a quasit (A speaker who can read and speak Infernal can choose, for others its a 50% chance of either). The creed is irrevocably absorbed into the familiar’s body and is completely destroyed when the familiar drops to 0 hit points. The familiar summoned by the creed is cursed. The archfiend who wrote the creed can observe the speaker through the summoned familiar, and if the speaker should ever die, familiar is not dismissed and rather becomes loose on the material plane to further the hellish causes of the Abyss.

Assassin’s Ring: An unassuming-looking signet ring hiding sinister features. The first is a single-chambered extradimensional space which can hold one dose of poison which remains potent and lethal as long as it stays within the chamber. The wielder can use an action equivalent to drawing a weapon to press part of its filigree to deploy the poison and apply it to a weapon or piece of ammunition that he is holding. Alternatively, the ring can be activated while holding a piece of food or a cup of liquid to mix the poison throughout the food or drink. The wielder gains advantage on checks made to conceal this action from observers. The ring can be filled with ten minutes of careful effort to funnel poison into the extradimensional space. The ring is protected by minor shielding wards and when worn by a living creature it does not give off a magical aura and is not detectable as a magical object.

Birdsong Whistle: A carving of reddish soapstone resembles a miniature cardinal. When air is blown through the lower back high-pitched sounds are emitted through the bird’s open beak. When the whistle is blown the sounds of songbirds are heard by all creatures in a 100-foot radius. These calls are indistinguishable from actual birds singing.

Cunning Tools: An exquisitely designed set of thieves’ tools made from silver worked only by the light of the full moon. They are enchanted to guide even the clumsiest felons to success. A bearer is considered proficient in these thieves’ tools even if they normally aren't and a creature who is already proficient in thieves tools adds 1d4+1 to the result of any skill checks made with them. In addition, the Cunning Tools fold down into a single, small smooth rosewood handle that appears to be a finely polished piece of wood. In this state the bearer gains advantage on checks made to conceal it and when carried by a living creature does not give off a magical aura and is not detectable as a magical object.

Fan of Whispering: A hand-fan painted with the image of a woman’s face breathing a gust of wind across a countryside. A bearer who holds the fan in front of his lips can communicate at a whisper to someone within 100 feet that he can see, without being detected by anyone else around. The fan does not grant the ability to reply to the messages.

Focusing Eye: A thumb-sized opal carved to resemble an open eye. As an action, a bearer can affix it to his forehead where it remains in place until he uses another action to remove it. While worn, the gem focuses, the wielder's mental facilities, clearing the psychic static and allowing him to better send and receive mental communications. While worn, the bearer can add 1d4 to the result of any insight, deception, intimidation and persuasion checks he makes while speaking telepathically with another creature. The opal does not grant its wearer the ability to communicate telepathically.

Gossip Earring: A brass earring sculpted into the shape of whispering maidens. While worn, whenever a creature says the bearer's name while within 100 feet the earring activates, transmitting the creature’s words as a hushed whisper into the bearer's ears until it has gone at least 1 minute without saying the bearer’s name.

Heaven's Roof Ring: A silver ring set with a flat gray stone etched with a wing. Whenever the creature falls from a serious height, his rate of descent slows to 60 feet per round and when he lands, he takes no falling damage and can land on his feet. While attuned, the bearer is also fully acclimated to great heights and automatically succeed on checks against the effects of the high altitude. The bearer must attune to the ring by sitting on the edge of a ledge, wall, cliff or other structure that is at least 10 feet tall and looking towards the ground for at least one hour.

Lucky Halfling Foot: A small hairy Halfling foot that has been shrunken, alchemically preserved and attached to a simple chain necklace as a pendant. Whenever the bearer rolls a natural 1 for an ability check, attack roll, or saving throw while wearing this necklace, he may choose to reroll and must use the new result. Once he makes a reroll in this way, he cannot do so again for the next 24 hours. In addition, halflings get an unnerving sense of this macabre trophy even when it is hidden, and while wearing this necklace the bearer has disadvantage on all charisma checks to interact with halflings. Alternatively, these mortal remains can be buried or burned properly through halfling funerary rites taking 1 hour. If these rites are completed, up to 8 creatures who took part in the proceedings can roll a Religion skill check with advantage and record the result as a mote of spiritual thanks from the halfling’s soul enters their body. Whenever a creature who has a mote within them rolls a natural 1 on an attack roll, skill check or saving throw, they can choose to expend the mote and replace the natural 1 with the result of the Religion skill check they recorded. Doing this consumes the mote.

Magic Mirror: A pocket mirror cast of silver from a sphinx's lair, housing glass made from the bones of a long dead seer, ground to dust. When viewed indirectly, its surface shows an insubstantial otherworldly face looking back. The mirror can be used as a spellcasting focus and twice per day can be used to cast Augury (See Note) as you ask a question and gaze into it. When you do so, your reflection whispers the answers to your questions. ---Note: Augury as a spell: https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Augury#content

Midnight Pearls: A damp silk pouch containing 1d4+2 lustrous black pearl earrings would look at home on a socialite but are rumored to have originated with a treacherous pirate captain. They always appear wet and give the air nearby the slightest taste of saltwater. A bearer does not require pierced ears to wear the earrings and when placed against the lobe they naturally stick to the skin. In addition to being highly fashionable, they can also help escape dangerous situations. A bearer can use an action equivalent to attacking, to drop and stomp on one of the pearls, destroying it to release a cloud of inky, magical darkness erupts in a sphere 15 feet in diameter centered on the bearer. The effect is impenetrable by darkvision and lasts until the end of the bearer's next turn.

Preserved Imp’s Head: A desiccated head of an imp that mumbles occasionally as if trying to speak but cannot, as its eyes and mouth sewn shut with a rough black cord. The fiend still lives in a twisted sense of the word and longs to escape this prison and return to Hell. The head shakes violently and curses whenever it is within 100 feet of an magical portal. If that portal leads to the abyss or a hellish plane the imp becomes enwreathed in harmless black flames as the fiend can taste the Sulphur of its homeland.

Steelsilk Mantle: An ornate purple dire-spider silk cloak, interwoven with enchanted steel threads. Whenever the wielder is attacked by a creature he can see, he can spin the cloak in its path in a defensive flourish to deflect the blow. Using an action equivalent to an attack of opportunity (See Note) the wielder can use the close to increase his armor class or physical defensiveness as if he was properly wielding a shield. The wielder may benefit from the armor class bonus (Typically a +2) even if he is already wielding a shield. —Note: If your system doesn’t use attacks of opportunity use the following rule: Once the wielder parries an attack he is no longer able to do so until the start of his next turn.

Practical Theology; A Beginner's Guide: A deceptively heavy, cloth-bound book adorned with divine symbols. It contains descriptions the basic concepts of prayer along with the symbiotic nature of Gods and mortals and how to properly request minor miracles. A creature who has read the volume for at least an hour a day for the past week obtains a rudimentary understanding of the power of prayer and gains the ability to cast one cleric cantrip of their choice that does not deal damage. The nature of spellcasting is demanding and precise and should the creature not keep up with studying the book for an hour per day they fall out of practice and must spend another week pouring over the tome’s pages. A creature who has gained a cantrip from reading the book can switch it to a different cantrip that doesn’t deal damage after reading the book for one hour. If the reader has spent 365 cumulative hours reading the book over the course of one year, he becomes proficient with one cleric cantrip of his choice that does not deal damage and no longer needs to consult the book each day to cast it.

[iww-gnv]

The Unity Technologies’ downward spiral continues as the company intends to cut 25% of its workforce — or roughly 1,800 people — in a move it called a “company reset.” It’s the game engine maker’s largest layoff, bigger than all three of last year’s cuts combined. More than 1,100 people were laid off in 2023, preceded by at least 200 layoffs in June 2022. Unity said in a United States Securities and Exchange Commission disclosure that the layoffs come as Unity “restructures and refocuses on its core business, and to position itself for long-term and profitable growth.” The layoffs will be completed by March, according to a Reuters report. Unity is known for its game engine software, which is used across the industry on games of all sizes — from indie games to AAA blockbusters. It serves as the foundation for games like Hearthstone, Marvel Snap, Apex Legends, and Among Us. Beyond video games, it’s also used in film and animation, among other industries. Despite it’s ubiquity in the industry, the company is not profitable: It earned more than $1.3 billion in revenue in 2022, but did not make a profit. The company’s large-scale layoffs began in 2022, but Unity’s problems became larger in 2023 when it announced a controversial new pricing model that was universally panned by game developers. The new runtime pricing was announced in September, with Unity proposing a fee collected per game install after a certain revenue threshold was met. Unity eventually pulled back on those plans after widespread backlash, including a boycott and a “credible death threat.” But the damage was done. Unity CEO John Riccitiello stepped down in October. James M. Whitehurst, an advisor at the Silver Lake equity investment firm and former IBM president, was named interim CEO.

[llondonfog]

(in reference)

it feels like love.

it feels like love, although he can't quite remember just what love is now— does it seep from the treacle-warm forgiveness of the ink clinging to his limbs? is it in the affectionate death-rattle of his phantom gurgling and fading behind him as his own magic dims and flickers within his heart, promising a gentle rest at last?

can love be found in those horror-filled eyes, once-brilliant crimson now awash in pale, stricken hues like the dawn before a storm?

he's not certain. but then again, there isn't much he's certain of anymore. for instance, hadn't this fae been smaller? when had he towered over silver—

(but hadn't that always been so? his father, demure in stature only and grandiose in all else, had always eclipsed his vision, the strength in his slight shoulders bearing the weight of silver's entire hearthstone and world.)

or was it silver who was shrinking instead, falling to his knees and then ungracefully onto his face in a slick, greedy puddle of blot. in the far-off distance just above his head, he can hear the fae's ragged breathing and can hear the metallic tremble of the sword now captive in those familiar fingers, a testament to the battle he had won in spite of the knight's relentless urge rocketing him forward and ever onwards to protect.

(what had he been protecting again? he can't remember, and yet something within him weeps bitterly at having forgotten.)

it feels like love, binding his limbs to the cold stone floor. it feels like love, as he gazes up at such a distraught face and dimly thinks that such noble features should never be arranged in a keen expression of despair. it feels like love, as he lays there, obedient and still, and awaits for the sword to swing with a kindness and meet its mark.

(if it feels like love, then why does it ache so much?)

[starshower1215]

Appreciative Rambling and Psychological/Social Connecting Analysis: Blitzstone Edition

Note: This is based on my personal interpretation of the relationship only.

Throughout my relatively short time of consuming media, I have found that I've connected most with relationships between characters like Hearthstone and Blitzen, from the trilogy Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard. I feel that in general, creators of content should pay more attention to relationships like this, especially now, because it can have a very good effect on children and teenagers.

Hearth and Blitz are more likely to be exposed to pre-adolescents and younger teenagers. This is perhaps when pressures and standards start to really take root, specifically for boys to act like this or— oh, no —they must be gay. Or for people to think, "So this is how friends act. If you act like this, you must be more than friends." Hearth and Blitz just break these standards.

Consider the scene where Hearth is reunited with Blitz after being apart and "[is] so excited he [can't] even sign. He rush[es] over and almost tackle[s] Blitzen off his stool" (Sword of Summer, p. 297). I think if we compared this to a "normal" two-guy relationship, it does look romantic, yes. This is not how most men seriously act with one another. But then again, how are men pressured to act? Toxic masculinity ideas can play a big role in how affection is expressed with guys, and on top of the stereotype that men who are sensual and feminine are homosexual (have we noticed that the terms are used interchangeably? A man can be wearing a skirt and someone will casually say, "That's so gay." No, it isn't, it is feminine, which is not the same as simply being attracted to the same sex. And even then, I have to acknowledge my own bias, because what makes a skirt feminine anyway? Who says? At its core, it covers the body, and that is all), then it is understandable to see how there are men out there who cry when you wash their hair or never forget when you give them an unsolicited compliment.

So, is this a case of someone (me, obviously) painting off another homosexual couple as just friends? Or is our main impression of Blitzstone only a product of our upbringing, and they actually are just friends? Or are they simply something we've yet to understand?

This is why the lack of clarity is so important to me... As is made very clear on this account. We were surrounded by these concepts as we grew up that friends act this way, and if it's different, it could be more than friends. And if it's more than friends, it has to be romantic, hasn't it? There's no in between, and anyway, romance is the end goal. Isn't it? Or else we'll die virgins and be alone for all our lives.

Even the phrase "more than friends" itself suggests that there is a hierarchy to relationships, and that romance is more... More impressive, more desired, more important than friendship. In reality, friendship and romance are on equal levels of value. They are simply different in nature.

I think this stems from our access to technology, where we are exposed to so much instantly gratifying media, and it makes us like these Big Moments and postable end goals with little regard for how long the journey is. So we like this idea of a happy life with a partner who is "our everything," who will never leave us, because this is how happily ever after is painted to be. And Blitzstone, as media for younger generations, introduces the counter idea that there is more to life than what we see. There's so much we can do and think if we stop letting this stuff limit us, and that is the Magic of Blitzstone, the absolute magic of their lack of definition. It leaves so much to discover on our own, wnd honestly, there's such a beauty to discovering stuff by ourselves instead of looking it up on the Internet. They're like a loose bar in a cage, and we bumped into one day, felt a bit of give, and realized that this. This one was different.

Anyway, this is becoming rather drastically written, but I just love Blitzstone for this reason. They are so themselves and so caught up in their living and loving together that they can't even bother with the labels and the nonsense. They bring a whole new meaning to "It is what it is."

[mallorykeen]

mcga characters + favourite movies

magnus: glass onion. has a crush on benoit blanc and fuck billionaires especially those who profit from other people's ideas

alex: spiderverse. he appreciates the art style that goes into the animation and regards it as the best marvel film (low bar) and best comic book adaptation. he's obsessed with the visuals and how miles' frames speed up as he grows through the movie

samirah: princess monoke. she was a ghibli girl growing up and monoke is beautifully designed and animated while still being quite mature

blitz: everything everywhere all at once because of the costuming, hair and makeup and also his mommy issues. close second is emma for the love confession and also the costumes

hearthstone: howl's moving castle because its the kind of magic that makes him feel warm inside but he kind of wishes that they'd kept howl being a rando rugby player from wales called howell

mallory: goodfellas. she likes what she likes

tj: the godfather. he likes the murdering and stuff and lowkey wants to fuck robert de niro's character

halfborn: he says its some obscure german movie that he discovered when he was doing his phd but really its love actually because he has bad taste. second place is fight club which he appreciates as a breakdown of toxic masculinity after alex sealed him to a chair with fast drying clay and forced him to watch

[bilbysaurus]

hi!! i am IN LOVE with hearthstone and fortunately came across your account so !! i am blessed. :3 ! can i pretty please get a scenario where hearthstone's gesturing for a kiss but reader is too short and cannot reach his tall ass at ALL so he has to lean down so far down just so reader can give him a lil peck on the lips? :) LOVEYOU, BYE

♡ - Can I get a kiss?

Hearthstone x Reader

(ASL is in italics)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and your boyfriend Hearthstone were on the way to meet up with some friends at a cafe nearby. It wasn't far but you were too lazy to walk the whole distance, and luckily you knew a shortcut through a park. You and Hearthstone were busy dissing everyone and cracking jokes when the summer sun shone brightly into your eyes.

"Dang it! My eyes-!"

What you didn't notice was your boyfriend admiring you. Your amazing personality, your bright eyes, your gorgeous smile. Who needed the sun when he had you? The light of his life. He smiled and tapped your shoulder.

"-Hmm? Yes, love?"

"Can I get a kiss?"

You frowned.

"Can you..bend over...?"

He makes a noise that sounds somewhat like laughter.

"No thanks."

To Hearth's amusement, you spend about 5 minutes trying to reach his face, before going for the most logical option and pulling him in by his scarf and pecking him on the lips.

Your boyfriend was utterly flustered. You smirked, very pleased with yourself.

"You need to stop being so tall."

"I can't control that."

You kiss him again. "You want more? Come get me!" you say before running off. It took him a second to realize what you said before dashing after you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

sorry its so short my laptop SHUT DOWN LIKE A BITCH and i lost everything (including my motivation.)

∞ euphoria