Monday 19 March 2018

Better Treasure (1d20)

Ah, loot. Sometimes it’s a useful magic item or gadget, sometimes it’s a pile of coins. That bit in between doesn’t get explored much. Some gems amongst the coins, or an ornamental sword perhaps, but that’s about it for items that are clearly valuable but not inherently useful.

Here are a few more, as found in a particular country in the far north of my 5e game’s setting.

1: Roll again, but it’s a well-made fake.
2:
A living but remarkably docile beetle, with the appearance and monetary worth of a gemstone. Worn as jewellery, worthless when dead.
3: A coin with a grinning half-moon on one side and full moon on the other, palm sized and not part of any known currency. The metal is not of this world.
4: A sculpture of an athlete. Clearly has religious significance.
5: A painting of dogs running an abattoir. The signature proves its worth.
6: A hanging scroll for a wall made of fine papyrus, inks and watercolours depict fishermen at sunset. In its native country, this would be passé, but here folks are just catching on.
7: The last known painting by a famous artist. The player character least likely to know about these things recognises it instantly.
8: A terrible painting, derivative and lacking in soul. The frame is ornate and laced with fine metals.
9: An abstract sculpture. The metal is worth a lot on its own, but convince someone this pretentious piece has meaning and they’ll pay tenfold.
10: A take on a well-known painting that 1d4 of the player characters have heard of. This version presents a view of the same river, but from below the surface, an artist with their easel depicted on the bank. Part of the water nymphs’ irony movement of the last century.
11: A tiara bearing the mark of a northern court jeweller. Cast aside by a petulant princess, its stunning workmanship overlooked for a flashier design.
12: An elven evening gown made from leaves that were seduced into growing this shape naturally. Too revealing for most polite society soirées, but those elves love this stuff.
13: Silk pyjamas of a corpulent noble. The material is fine, and of volume enough to make several garments that could each be sold at the price of the original.
14: A fur-trimmed cape. There is a minor tear, easily repaired in an undetectable manner, but that clearly wasn’t a good enough solution for its snooty owner.
15: A woollen hat made from the fleece of cosmic goats. The milliner clearly was unaware that their creation would not protect from cold due to its material’s ineffable essence, and upon realising this cast their work aside. The wool itself still has value, though.
16: A sealed capsule of some astral origin. Nobody of this plane would know how to open it, but it has immense value as a curio or conversation piece.
17: A locket with an engraving: if found, please return to given address. The owner will offer a reward even greater than the locket’s considerable worth.
18: A pair of earrings that were the height of fashion 1d100 years ago. Someone old enough to remember that craze will, upon seeing them, decide it’s time they made a comeback, and offer a large sum.
19: A necklace of ice crystals suspended in time, never melting. Only a noble would be able to afford it, but a wizard would offer anything they could for the chance to study the enchantment.
20: A treasure mimic (see: the Graverobber’s Guide to Slimes).

Oh, and if needed, 1d6 explanations for how these incongruous treasures got to the dungeon in which the players find them:

1: Magpie men. A nest nearby.
2: Bungles; animated bags with little feet that love to steal, but dump their contents when they start feeling weighed down.
3: An astral anomaly. Any magic user detects the traces of long-dormant spatial rifts in the area.
4: The original owner turns up as soon as the treasure is found, asking politely for it back. They are a doppelganger, and their disguise is how they stole it in the first place, before putting it somewhere for safekeeping while they left to feed.
5: Goblins who fancy themselves critics of art and haute couture. One displays his find to the others, who wear stolen monocles and make thoughtful noises as they appraise it, stroking their chins.
6: The wraith of a spurned lover who clings to their former paramour’s belongings as a kind of pathetic revenge.

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