Fuck the King of Space is meant to be D&D with starships. To me, that means more than simply running a role playing game in the distant future, it means actually making an effort to recreate as much of the D&D experience as possible. Facing monsters, crawling through dungeons, and casting spells are all part of the game. So, obviously, the game will include magic items, and since it does take place in the far future, it only makes sense that there are technologically advanced items, which are also enchanted.

The rub is that in terms of game writing, magic and technology are basically interchangeable. A teleportation spell and a transportation pad function very much the same; as do a flight spell and a jetpack, or an invisibility spell and a cloaking device.

This isn’t so much a problem for a magician’s spells. Sure, you can always buy grenades, but if it’s possible to conjure a ball of fire using only your brain, people are gonna learn how to do that. On the other hand, if the weapon’s dealer has a bin of Scrolls of Fireball right next to the grenades, that just seems pointless. The world doesn’t need both, and in a SciFi game, if something can be handled by technology, it probably shouldn’t be needlessly magical.

Ergo, magic items in FKOS need to distinguish themselves. There needs to be a reason for the effect to be justified by magic, rather than technobabble.

Make it function relative to other magic: This is just kind of a freebie. If a magic item increases a spell’s area of effect, or allows spells to be slightly modified on the fly, or increases resistance to clerical dispellings, then it’s only natural that the device would itself be magical. Duh-doy.

Make it really weird. Honestly, this is always good advice, but it’s particularly relevant here. The effect can’t be a matter of simple bonuses, it can’t have a straightforward use. Weird magic doesn’t operate in a logical way; it has drawbacks; it demands sacrifice; it crosses barriers, creates the unthinkable.

Make it really flavorful. Again, a good piece of general advice that should always be followed, but applies doubly in this scenario. Perhaps a magical effect would be better explained by technology, but if that effect is intensely flavorful, I don’t think it would bother the players.

So if some ship out there is going faster than normal, you could say it’s because that ship has very nice expensive engines. That would be an acceptable answer, while “magic engines” would not. But, if you say “The captain made a deal with the devil to power her engines with human misery, so her engine room has nothing in it except a massive torture chamber.” Well…that’s good fuckin’ shit.

Make Magic an Explanation for Scarcity. The most boring way to develop a fantasy setting is to make magic so commonplace that it’s used for day-to-day mundanities. Street lamps that conjure a Light spell at dusk every day make me gag. Magic works best when it’s mysterious, unique.

Technology has the opposite problem. If a technology exists, it only makes sense for it to be widespread. There are some limitations you can put on it (only the wealthy can afford it, only the Gorbos know how to make it, etc.), but technology can never really be unique. Unless it’s a “prototype.” Shitty science fiction is riddled with prototypes, as if it’s commonplace for amazing technologies to be developed, then abandoned for no good reason.

Having both Magic and Technology allows FKOS to get the best of both worlds. Technology is the baseline for what is available to the denizens of the Kingdom Galactic; magic is for the unique exceptions.

As a bonus, if the players ever get a campaign-breaking magic item, some new technology may eventually be developed which emulate that item’s effects, re-leveling the playing field.

Space Suit of Holding: A single space suit which multiple people can wear simultaneously. They must put on the suit one-at-time, but once a person is inside the suit, they can only be seen through the helmet’s visor. Looking into the suit from any other opening, it will appear to be empty.

If the suit’s inhabitants are in agreement, they may choose who is in control of the suit’s motion. If the inhabitants are in conflict, roll a mental struggle between them. This is resolved as a grapple; everyone rolls 1d6 per level, highest wins. If there is a tie, it is won by whomever has the most spell slots. If it is still a tie, the tied participants should roll again.

If the suit is ruptured, it will explode, sending all participants flying away from one another. If this happens, each inhabitant has a 2-in-6 chance to be blasted into extradimensional space, rather than into their own environment.

Handheld Sun: A metal cylinder with a lens on one end, and a crank on the other. The crank can be wound to last anywhere from 10 minutes, to an hour. Either way, it takes about a minute to wind it up.

When wound, a tiny viewing portal opens up behind the lens. Exactly where in the universe the portal leads to is randomly determined each time crank is turned (even if the players are extending the time of a previous winding). All of the possible portals open up close to a sun, allowing its brilliant light to shine through the lens. This light cannot be hidden or extinguished. It is so persistent that it will be visible even in a metal box.

The intense light of various suns has different properties. Since there are essentially infinite stars out in the universe, the referee is encouraged to add to this list as often as the mood to do so strikes them.

1. A white sun. Light “sticks” everywhere it passes over, causing those surfaces to become temporarily luminous.
2. A green sun. When shone on a person, their inner self is illuminated for all to see.
3. A chartreuse sun. Affects humans the way a yellow sun affects vampires.
4. A violet sun. Affects humans the way a yellow sun affects Superman.
5. A bone sun. This light attracts ghosts, like fish to a light shone on a lake at night.
6. A stale sun. Animals touched by this light can speak. What they have to say is not always healthy to hear.

Heartlancer: A T-77 blaster carbine, equipped with high density batteries, gyroscopic auto-stabilizers, and an adjustable stock. A fairly common weapon to find on the surplus market, since the T-82 is the current weapon of choice for The King’s Loyal Soldiers. Despite its mundane appearance, however, this particular T-77 is a weapon of intense cruelty.

On a successful hit, the target is completely unharmed. However, for the briefest of moments, their minds are transported to the body of someone they love. They see a laser blast appear from out of nowhere, and they know that this person whom they loved is now dead. When they return to their own body, no time will have passed, and they may act normally.

Each time they are hit with the weapon, someone they love even more dearly will be killed in the same way, until the 8th time they are hit with it, when they will see the person whom they love most in all the galaxy die. After this, the Heartlancer will function like a typical T-77 when used against that target.

Cloaking Device: When activated, the vessel (or person, as the case may be) not only becomes invisible, but incorporeal as well. They can walk through walls, or fly through asteroids, without taking any damage. It is not advisable, however, to uncloak while inside something.

The Wayback Machine: A portable computer. It lacks any significant processing power, and seems to be intended only for casual use, such as writing documents, or browsing the Commnet. A series of complex symbols have been carved into the plastic bezel of the case, apparently using a pin or box cutter.

When the computer is used to connect to the Commnet, it doesn’t view the net as it is, but rather, it views the net as it was, at some point in the past. Specifically, if used inside of a man-made structure, it will connect to the Commnet as it existed on the day that construction was completed. So, if you want to examine the net as it was in 31,607, then you must find a building that was constructed in that year.

If not inside a man made structure, the computer will connect to the Commnet as it is now, but the connect is finicky and unreliable.

The Elder Comm: Like most comm stations, this console is equipped not only to send and receive messages across a multitude of frequencies, but using a variety of methods as well. There’s Comm, Hypercomm, Lighbounce, Radio if you’re in a pinch, and at least two dozen others, all of which have their own niche uses, and are standard fare on any mid-tier comm system. Unique to the Elder Comm, however, is that it can also deliver messages using the souls of the dead.

It’s unclear just how many souls are trapped within it, but with a flip of a dial and a twist of a switch, the operator can send a ghost wherever they wish, to carry their voice wherever it needs to go. The ghosts are not visible, and will never speak any words they have not been instructed to convey. But they are there, and they are conscious. Thinking, whispering to one another when they think no body can hear.

The most notable benefit of this setting is that messages can be communicated to locations without comm equipment to receive them; and return messages can be sent the same way.

Why in the world has it been almost 2 years since I last did one of these? They’re a lot of fun to write, and people seemed to enjoy reading them. I rolled the items for this post forever ago, and they’ve just been sitting in my drafts folder, perpetually ignored.

For anyone who doesn’t remember, here’s how this works: I use the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide to randomly generate 3 magic items. Then I reinvent them to be a little weirder, goofier, grosser, and generally more in line with my personal style.

As should be obvious from the title, I’ve done this not once, not twice, but three times before, all back in early 2016.

So, without further yammering:

Ring of Water Walking

This ring enables the wearer to walk upon any liquid without sinking into it; this includes mud, quicksand, oil, running water, and even snow. The ring wearer’s feet do not actually contact the surface he or she is walking upon when liquid or water is being walked upon (but oval depressions about 1 1/1′ long and 1 inch deep appear per 100 pounds of weight of the walker will be observed in hardening mud or set snow). Rate of movement is standard movement for the individual wearing the ring. Up to 1,200 pounds of weight can be supported by a water walking ring.

Ring of Walking Water

A copper band which glows a faint orange. If thrown into a sufficiently sized body of liquid, that liquid will swirl into form around the ring. The process takes only a single round, after which the fluid–now in the shape of a human wearing the ring on their finger–will come to the aid of whomever threw the ring.

Liquid-persons have 4 hit dice. They are as strong, dexterous, and swift as an average human. They cannot speak, but for the duration of the effect, will obey any commands the ring thrower gives them. There is a wide variety of abilities these creatures might have, based on whatever particular fluid they are composed from. Rather than write an anticipatory list that would no doubt be incomplete, I leave it to the individual referee to determine what it means to command a fluid person composed of salt water rather than fresh water, or lava, or fetid water, or beer, or poison, etc.

When they are created, a liquid person has an innate sense of why they were created. The referee should ask the throwing player to specify what that reason is, with the understanding that it cannot be too broad in scope. Anything that would take longer than 30 minutes will need to be broken down into a smaller task.

When the immediate need for them has passed, liquid persons will attempt to flee from their creator. They know the thrower will want their ring back, but the liquid person would rather keep their new life. So, if the player does not wish to lose their ring, then after each use they must chase down and tackle the liquid person, which will fall apart if the ring is taken from them.

Candle of Invocation

Candles of Invocation are specially blessed and prayered tapers which are dedicated to the pantheon of gods of one of the nine alignments. The typical candle is not remarkable, but it will radiate magic if such is detected, and good or evil will be radiated also if appropriate. Simply burning the candle will generate a favorable aura for the individual so doing if the candle’s alignment matches that of the character’s. If burned by a cleric of the same alignment, the candle  temporarily increases the cleric’s level of experience by 2, allowing him or her to cast additional spells, and even normally unavailable spells, as if her or she were of the higher level, but only so long as the taber is aflame. Any burning also allows the casting of a gate spell, the respondent being of the alignment of the candle, but the taper is immediately consumed in the process. Each candle will burn for 4 hours. It is possible to extinguish the candle as any other, but it can be placed in a lantern or otherwise sheltered to protect it from drafts and other things which could put it out without affecting its magical properties.

Candle of Embarkation

A large wax candle, of plain make. When lit, the candle conjures a vessel beneath it, appropriate to whatever whatever environment the candle-lighter’s weight is resting in. If lit by someone standing in a river, the candle will conjure a riverboat, while in the sea it will conjure a galleon. On land, the candle might conjure a carriage with a team of of oxen. If the candle is lit while falling (difficult to do, with all that rushing air), it will produce a flying machine. Strange environments may produce strange vehicles.

Whatever the vessel summoned, there are a few similarities. First, the candle will always place itself in an enclosed space, like a ship’s cabin. Second, the person lighting the candle, as well as any creature within 20′ of them, will likewise be moved to the same space the candle occupies. This includes everything, from friends and foes, to badgers and bugs.

The vessel will come with everything it needs for basic locomotion (boats will have sails, carriages will have pulling animals, etc), but will lack anything else. The candle cannot conjure operators, provisions, or armaments.

The conjured vehicle will persist for as long as the candle remains lit. If the candle goes out, the vessel will disappear. If undisturbed, the candle will last for 12 hours.

Boots of Striding and Springing

The wearer of these magical boots has a base movement rate of 12″ , regardless of size or weight. This speed can be maintained tirelessly for up to 12 hours per day, but thereafter the boots no longer function for 12 hours– assume they “recharge” for that period. In addition to the striding factor, these boots also have a springing factor. While “normal” paces for the individual wearing this type of footgear are 3′ long, the boots also enable forward jumps of up to 30′, backwards leaps of 9′, and vertical springs of 15′. If circumstances permit the use of such movement in combat, the wearer can effectively strike and spring away when he or she has the initiative during a melee round. However such activity has a degree of danger, as there is a base 20% chance that the wearer of the boots will stumble and be stunned on the following round; adjust the 20% chance downwards by 3% for each point of dexterity above 12 for the wearer. In any event, the wearer increases armor class value by +1 due to the quickness of movement these boots imbue.

Springs of Booting

A small wooden box, or metal tin, similar to one that might be used to carry tea leaves, ground seasonings, or snuff. In reality, the box contains springs wrapped in cloth sleeves. They’re pressed up against the lid, waiting to bounce out and startle whoever opens the box.

Anyone struck by these is quickly booted from wherever they are, via the nearest exist. If they are on a boat, the will be tossed overboard. If they’re in a building, they’ll go out the nearest openable window or door. If they’re in a dungeon, they’ll be flung back up to the surface. To them, it will feel like their body is attached to a cord, pulling them around at high speed. This pulling is always completely safe–they won’t get dragged through lava, or slammed into any walls. However, that won’t count for much if they’re then tossed out a 20th story window, or over the rail of a ship sailing through lava.

Anyone who opens the box themselves, without specifically pointing it away, will automatically be hit, and dragged off. Characters may also attempt to aim the weapon at a target before opening it, but this will require a successful attack roll against the base armor rating, followed by a saving throw versus paralyzation to dodge.

Ugh, man, don’t you just hate Christmas? It’s such a stressful time of the year, with all these dumb obligations and traditions you have to endure. Blech, the worst, right?

Pft, no, dumb. Christmas is the best. I’ve been listening to Christmas music all day and now it’s time for you to read this post that resulted!

The Hat of Awakening

In a distant epoch, the demon Frozti, born beneath Satan’s wing, battled with a powerful wizard. The forces of good prevailed, and in the end, Frozti’s spirit was sealed within the wizard’s hat, where it has remained ever since. But, it is an immutable law of magic that any seal must have a key. Hoping to deny the vicious Frozti any means of escape, the wizard decreed that the seal would only be broken if the demon inside was able to befriend a million children.

Time passed, and in the smallest degree the seal began to leak. Whenever the Hat of Awakening is placed upon an inanimate object with human form, Frozti can animate that object, and control it as if it were his own body. But this false body is not enough for Frozti, he wishes to truly be free. And, so, whenever he has this chance, he plays the role of friendly oaf, befriending every child he encounters.

The untold ages since this demon was sealed have been the most peaceful in humanity’s existence. Every war in our memory pales in comparison to what came before. None now living could ever begin to understand the untold violence their forebears endured.

Frozti’s long effort nears its end. He need only befriend a handful more children before he is free.

Sock of Many Things

A white woolen sock, with red stripes. It’s fairly cozy, but lacks a mate, so you’ll look like a dingus if you wear it.

If the Sock of Many Things is left to dry by a fire, and remains unobserved for 6+ hours, it will miraculously fill with all manner of cheap junk!

Whilst carrying the full sock, at any time, the player may dig around inside of it, and pull out any item they desire. The only restrictions are that the item must be able to fit inside of the sock, and must have a standard market value of 10 silver pieces or less.

There is no hard limit on how many items can be pulled from the sock each time it is filled. The referee should merely declare that the sock is empty once it seems like the player has pulled out as much stuff as the sock could have held.

Tree of Generosity

Less of an item, and more of a location, given that it’s rooted to the ground it was grown in. However, it could easily be chopped down and transported, and would retain its powers for up to a month, if properly watered.

Anyone who smells the pine scent coming off the tree must make a saving throw versus Magic. On a failed save, they will be compelled to find a suitable gift for everyone who was present when their save was failed. Until the gifts are delivered, the character cannot pursue any other goal, or attempt to do any harm to the intended recipients of their gifts, unless those people attack them first.

Gifts cannot be just anything. They must be a material object (not a service, or other intangible gift), and it must be something the giver truly believes the recipient will appreciate, based on what they know of them.

Genesis Gingerbread

There’s a strange woman who sells this stuff in various markets all over the kingdom. She always trundles out of some nearby woodlands, but attempting to tracker her movements is the path to maddness. One day she comes out of the Bluewood, sells her wares, then returns from whence she came. The next day she emerges from Yellingbird Forest, eighty leagues to the North.

And no matter how well informed people are to be on the lookout for her, she’s never spotted by anyone who is wise to her tricks. Only folks who’ve never heard of her ever seem to encounter her cart, or her curious dough.
That’s really all she sells: gingerbread dough, by the pound. It’s an odd thing to find for sale at a market stand, but she offers a fair price, and assures you that it makes the tastiest cookies you’ve ever had. But, of course, only if you cut it into cute shapes before you make it.

When cooked, the woman’s gingerbread comes to life, mimicking whatever it was shaped like. Little gingerbread dogs act like dogs, little gingerbread men act like men, and if you’re a fuddy duddy who just makes normal disk-shaped cookies, well…they roll around a lot.

Some magic items. We all like magic items, right? Anyway, introductions are boring. Here are fifteen magic items I came up with:

1. Two flat discs, about 1′ across. One is black, the other is white, and the two are connected by a 20′ long cord. The black disc has a switch on top of it which, when depressed, will cause anything touching it to disappear. A fraction of a second later, everything that disappeared will reappear at the white disc. The white disc doesn’t have a switch, so travel cannot be made in both directions.
2. A 100′ length of rope, with a small bag attached to one end. Breathing into the bag for 10 minutes will cause it to magically expand, growing larger and larger until it’s roughly the size of a horse. At this point, it will begin to float up into the air, trailing the rope along with it. It will rise until the other end of the rope is is 2′ off the ground, then stop. The balloon can support roughly 500lb of weight before it will begin to droop back towards the ground. If additional ropes are tied together, the balloon will continue rising until the bottom most rope is 2′ off the ground.
3. A full sized door, complete with frame and hinges. Obviously, this is a fairly cumbersome item to carry around. If the door is placed against some surface (such as a wall), the edges can be hammered in. Over about 10 minutes of noisy work, the door will gradually embed itself into the surface. Once in place, the door can be opened, and will reveal a passage straight through to the other side of the wall. If the wall was particularly thick, the door can create a tunnel up to 200′ long to reach the other side. Once mounted, the door is a permanent fixture, and cannot be removed.
4. An ancient treadmill. It’s a massive, heavy thing made of steel and wood. When walked on, movement can be “stored” within a person, to be released the moment they step off the treadmill. So, if a person walks on the treadmill for 1 mile, then when they step off the treadmill, they may pick any point 1 mile away from their current location, and will be carried there in an instant. Time spent walking on the treadmill requires the same amount of time and ration use as if one were walking on a road through flat lands.
5. An envelope made from parchment, small enough to fit inside a coat pocket. One person of any size can be fit inside the envelope, though they must either enter it willingly, or be placed inside it while unconscious. While inside, the person is weightless, and does not experience the passage of time. Even if they are injured and bleeding out, their condition will not worsen while they’re inside. If the envelope is destroyed, the person inside is not harmed, they merely pop out. However, if the envelope is destroyed while it is inside a small container (say, a bird cage), the person may be injured or killed.
6. The Trebuchet of Safe Landings, capable of launching 90 kg travelers over 300 meters.
7. Rings of Burrowing; a set of 10, one for each finger. Wearing the whole set allows a person to dive into the earth like a mole, and survive down there for as long as they like without worrying about lack of oxygen. Only soil can be dug through, so a constructed floor, or particularly rocky terrain would prevent the wearer from using the rings. The initial dive into the earth requires a full round action. While burrowing, the wearer can move up to 20′ per round. Emerging from beneath the earth requires only a move equivalent action, so that a standard action (such as an attack) is allowed right after popping up.
8. A small ladder with only two rungs. When placed on the ground, fluffy rungs will descend from the nearest cloud to meet it. (Assuming, of course, there is a cloud nearby). Anyone who climbs the cloud ladder can drift with the cloud, traveling great distances along the path of the wind. Each day, there is a cumulative 1-in-8 chance that rain will begin to fall from the cloud. If the passengers have not dropped their ladder down to leave before rain starts to fall, then they will be dropped from the cloud with the rain, and plummet the ground below.
9. A map, and a dart, kept together in a specially made case. If the dart is thrown at the map from at least 15′ away, then the thrower will be transported to wherever the dart sticks. From 15′ away, the armor rating of hitting a specific hex is 17. For each point the hit roll misses by, the dart will land 5 hexes further from the desired target, in a random direction. If the hit roll results in a 6 or lower, then the dart landed off the map entirely, and the thrower is transported to one of the outer planes.
10. Bosco is a playful dog. She doesn’t really know any tricks or obey any commands, and she gets excited by balls, butterflies, and her own reflection. She’s very fun, but not often useful. However, if attached to a pulling harness, up to eight other dogs will materialize into any other harnesses nearby. Bosco is a whole dog sledding team, wrapped up in a single dog.
11. Quadruped Bracelets, when worn, cause the arms to elongate. If the wearer leans forward just a bit, their knuckles will be able to reach the ground. Using all four limbs to move doubles a person’s movement speed, though having longer arms hinders them in other ways. Notably, using weapons is almost impossible, and anyone attempting combat actions while their arms are long will suffer a -5 penalty to their attack rolls.
12. A 1′ long stick, covered in simplistic etchings of sex acts. If the stick is broken in half, the person holding it will be transported back to the spot where they were conceived. (Anyone who is touching them, or touching the stick, will be teleported along with them). This may be their parent’s old bedroom, a secluded spot in the woods, or wherever else their parents happened to be fucking when they wound up making this person. The stick can work as many times as it can be broken in half.
13. River Lightning Shoes are a precious magic item. If they touch a river, then the wearer will transform into an arc of light, and begin shooting downstream at 300 miles an hour. They can attempt to disembark from the river at any time, but they’re going so fast they only have a 2-in-6 chance of getting off at the right spot. Otherwise they’ll either undershoot, or overshoot their destination by 1d6 hexes. Try not to fall into a river by accident when wearing these!
14. The Breastplate of Flight can be integrated into any set of medium armor. Whenever the wearer is struck by an attacking foe, they will instantaneously teleport 10′ away from their attacker, along a line that both characters are on. (So, if your attacker is standing to the East of you, you will teleport 10′ to the West). Helpful in escaping from a battle you wish to flee from, but obviously makes brawling somewhat difficult.
15. A length of rope 50′ long. The rope has been specially treated with the blood of cockroaches, and baked in the sun. Within any area completely encircled by the rope, the person who laid the rope in place is capable of superhuman feats of speed. Their movement speed is doubled, and they’re able to take twice as many actions each turn as they normally would.

I’m really glad October had so many Sundays in it this year. Writing four spoopy posts has been a thoroughly enjoyable way to get into the Halloween spirit for me.

If an adventuring party is particularly unfortunate, they may come across a hinged wooden box, of rough make, of a size that would be useful for holding a pair of shoes. The box has a simple latch of twine, which is sealed with yellowed wax. An odd sign, pictured below, has been pressed there.

If the box is opened, all present must make a save versus Magic. However, only some will be the true target’s of the box’s curse. It falls upon those who have conceded the agency of their actions to another. Men and women who rise in the morning to do the bidding of another, and fall asleep in the evening only when the tasks given them are complete. This is primarily henchpeople, hirelings, slaves, those under the command of a geas, or those who have sold their soul.

All others who fail their save may think that they have been affected by the box’s malice, but they are merely experiencing its rejection of them. They will retch and vomit until they have nothing left inside of them, and then continue for an hour more. They take 1d6 damage, and if your game uses any sort of stress or sanity mechanic, they ought to get a shit ton of that as well.

Everyone else who fails, (the henchpeople, hirelings, slaves, etc.) do not suffer any vomiting, damage, or psychic torment. They are, however, cursed like a motherfucker.

There is a stage of acute radiation sickness that is grimly referred to as the “Walking Ghost Phase.” At this stage, the bone marrow of the afflicted is gone. Their body can no longer produce white blood cells, their insides are melting. They are turning to goo from the inside out, and they feel absolutely fine.

Sometimes they mistakenly think the worst is over, when in point of fact they are already dead. Their body has completely given up and very shortly they will experience an agonizing death. Nothing can be done to help them.

That is how you should consider those who fail their save against the curse of the box. The save they just made was a save versus Death, and they are now dead. But it will be a very long, very interesting death.

Within the box are nails, which the cursed will fixate upon. They become addicted, and like any addict, they have an amazing talent for feeding their addiction. There is, functionally, no way to prevent the cursed character from getting to the nails when it’s time for a fix. They will pick pockets, sneak into locked rooms, bribe, threaten, and fight. Short of encasing the box in cement, dropping it in the ocean, and keeping the addict under lock & key with 24 hour surveillance on the other side of the world, you’ll just have to accept that the addict will get a nail whenever they want a nail.

When they want nails will be whenever they obey an instruction from their employer. They won’t disrupt or delay their task–being of good service is part of the pleasure of it–but as soon as they have a spare moment they’ll go get one of the nails and hammer it into their body. Favorite locations are into their skulls, their ears, their eyes, nose, between their fingers, into their knees, and eventually just wherever they still have room. Regardless of where they are placed, the nails do not affect the abilities of the character. Someone with nails in both eyes can still see, for example. None the less, it is a grizzly sight to behold, and once the nail is in, it grows roots of iron. It can never be removed without completely destroying the body part it is attached to.

With each nail inserted into the body, the addict’s maximum hit points are lowered by one, and a randomly determined ability score (Str, Con, Dex, Int, Wis, or Cha) is raised by 2.

As per usual, no individual ability score can every rise higher than 18. If a nail would cause that to happen, the ability score is instead raised to 18 (if that was not the case already), and the addict rolls on the following table to determine what happens to them:

1. The addict becomes a pedophile. If children are nearby, the addict will use any spare moment to seek them out.
2. The addict gains an expertise of 6-in-6 in a randomly determined skill.
3. The addict becomes a cannibal, and is compelled to feast on the flesh of their own kind anytime it is available. At least once a week, if not more often.
4. The addict gains the ability to fly anytime they wave their arms as though they were a bird.
5. A desire for the pleasures of sadism overwhelms the addict. They become fascinated by torture, and will employ it on anyone they have within their power.
6. Punches and kicks delivered by the addict strike with inhuman force, dealing 1d12 damage.
7. The addict becomes an unmanageable gossip. Any secrets they are privy to will become common knowledge almost instantaneously.
8. The addict gains a Fighter’s attack bonus.
9. The blood of the addict takes on a very particular, very pungent scent. One that can be smelled from miles away by vampires. At least one such creature with 2d4 hit dice will appear each month.
10. The addict becomes powerfully telekinetic, and can either move small objects with great speed and precision, or move heavy objects very slowly and clumsily.
11. The addict becomes haughty and insulting to an extent that would be considered untoward even if it was coming from the prince of a wealthy and powerful kingdom.
12. The addict gains the ability to grown and shrink at will, from the size of a great oak tree to the size of a baby mouse.
13. The addict is afflicted with incontinence, and will shit themselves frequently.
14. X-RAY VISION
15. The addict becomes very fond of the sound glass and ceramics make when they are shattered, and will break any glass they find.
16. The addict’s carrying capacity is the stuff of legends. Anything small enough to fit in a backpack can be carried without penalty. no matter how much of it there is. If you keep handing the addict bricks, they’ll keep shoving them in pouches and pockets without any strain on their body until you run out of bricks. Even if you disassemble a whole village worth of houses to do it.
17. The addict addresses every speaking creature that the party encounters in a boorish, sexually suggestive manner. Never in a nice way either. Less “Your hair glistens in the moonlight like the waters of a fragrant meadow” and more “You smell like a dirty fuck, lemme see that asshole.”
18. The addict refuses any form of compensation for their efforts, and will direct all pay to their employer. Service is its own reward.
19. The addict’s pleasure from being subservient rises to the level of sexual fetish. They respond with uncomfortable amounts of pleasure when given commands, and can often be found masturbating after being scolded, or told to do something. They seem to think their employer is complicit in their fetish, and cannot be convinced otherwise.
20. The addict’s kiss can heal 1d6 hit points.

Because this addiction feeds on subservience, it will never occur rto the addict to leave their employer of their own volition. If they are fired, they will demand to be given the nail box as severance. They will not take “no” for an answer, and will attempt force if necessary. In that event they will resent being forced to stand up for themselves (in contradiction to their throbbing need to act subservient). This resentment will likely give rise to a merciless thirst for violences worked upon the one who wronged them.

If they are unemployed and have the box, they will immediately seek out a new employer. Any work, for any amount of pay is acceptable. They may even sell themselves to slavery, so long as they retain access to their nails.

Given their (likely) vile disposition and (probably) great ability, employment will be easy to find with disreputable folk.