================ BAG OF "HELPING" ---------------- DESCRIPTION: The Bag is a magical, normal-sized, plain brown sack, tied shut with a silver pullcord. From the outside, it appears totally ordinary. The inside of the Bag is pitch black, its contents totally unseeable by any means. If "scanned" by magic, the Bag emits a moderately-powerful aura of strong chaotic alignment. The Bag is used by loosening the cord and reaching inside with your hand. After a little rummaging, you feel an object within, which you can then pull out of the Bag. The object the Bag produces can literally be almost *anything* - from weapons and armor, to mundane items, to precious gems or artifacts, to food and drink, to even small animals or monsters. The exact object you come up with is seemingly random, though this is far from the truth. Objects from the Bag are "normal" in all respects, and possess no inherent magic due to their origin; items are only magical if the specific item in question would normally be magical. There are some limitations, of course. First, the Bag cannot 'contain' anything that would not normally fit into a normal-sized sack. The Bag also cannot produce more than one of anything - that is, only one weapon, a single gold coin, one of a pair of gloves, etc. The Bag cannot produce anything sentient; any creatures that come out of it possess only basic animal instincts and behavior. Finally, the Bag cannot produce *specific* items, only facsimilies of them - you might, say, pull out an identical copy of Groglar's +5 Flaming Vorpal Demon Sword of Casual Dismemberment, but it won't be *the* Groglar's +5 Flaming Vorpal Demon Sword of Casual Dismemberment. Only one item can be 'out' of the Bag at any given time; if a different item is to be drawn out, the original item must be put back in first. If the object is a creature, it can be put back either alive OR dead, but the whole body must be present and accounted for. If an item generated from the bag is lost or misplaced, the bag will simply be empty until the original item is found and replaced inside. If an entire day (24 hours) passes without the object being returned, the object (or what remains of it, if damaged or broken) will simply vanish from existance, at which point the Bag becomes useable again. If the object has been totally annihilated (i.e. no physical remains), the Bag still becomes useable again after a day. The only objects that can be placed *into* the Bag are ones that originally came *out* of the Bag. Anyone attempting to place any normal item in the Bag will find that an invisible force pushes back with enough strength to prevent the item from getting all the way inside. The Bag can be turned inside-out with no ill-consequences; however, it cannot have anything taken out of it, or put back into it, until the Bag is turned rightside-in again. The Bag is crafted of macigally-protected fabric that is indestructable by most means; it can only be 'unmade' by certain magics, which would permanently destroy it. ----- BEHAVIOR: The Bag of "Helping" is actually intelligent, though it cannot communicate by any means. The Bag's conciousness is one of chaos, with but a single purpose: to frustrate all who would attampt to harness its power. The Bag generates seemingly random objects and items when reached into. In reality, the items drawn are decided by the Bag's conciousness, specifically selected to achieve the Bag's ultimate goal of royally screwing over its owner. At any given moment, the Bag will usually generate an object that is almost totally USELESS in the current situation. For example, the PCs are confronted by a heavy iron door with an intricate lock; the Bag's owner reaches in for a (hopefully) helpful item, and comes out with...a feather duster. The exact item can be (and IS) totally random, but in these instances, it is always something that would be of little to no use in the current context of the adventure. Sometimes, the Bag will generate an object that is not only useless, but possibly harmful. Example: the hero from before puts the feather duster back in the Bag (to get a new item), then reaches in and pulls out a venomous snake (which immediately attacks). These potentially dangerous draws are relatively rare, though; the Bag loves scaring people, but it doesn't want to drive an owner to abandon it. One of the Bag's favorite pranks is to generate an item that *would* have been useful awhile previously, but is of no help in the current situation. Example: the PCs subdue the snake and return it to the bag, but soon get caught by the evil wizard and teleported into the middle of a gang of angry trolls. The hero reaches into the Bag, and pulls out...a magic lockpick. Needless to say, this is more than a little infuriating to the Bag's owner. Another favorite trick is to produce an item that would be useful *later*, but will somehow find its way back into the Bag before that situation arrives. Example: the PCs defeat the trolls, but are then attacked by the wizard. During the battle, the wizard accidentally reveals that he is deathly afraid of snakes... (For the purposes of this sort of draw, assume that the Bag can accurately see events involving its owner up to one hour into the future.) Occasionally, just to really mess with people's heads, the Bag will deliberately produce something that really IS helpful; for example, the PCs escape from the wizard, only to run smack into an Atomic Dragon. The hero, who at this point is just about fed up with the state of things, reaches desperately into the Bag, and comes out with an enchanted +7 Lead-Plated Bastard Sword of Dragonslaying. Of course, this instantly rekindles the bagholder's faith in the powers of the Bag...which is exactly what the Bag was aiming for. By stringing its owner along with the promise, however elusive, of a payoff when it really counts, the Bag encourages the poor sap to keep using it...which provides the bag with even more amusement to come. ----- HISTORY: The Bag of "Helping" was originally a practical joke by a particularly Chaotic gnomish prankster, whose name has been lost in the sands of time. According to legend, the prankster had a neighbor, also a gnome, who was considerably more Lawful, and considerably more productive with his talents. He was an engineer, known throughout the countryside for his mechanical skill. By dabbling part-time in the magic arts, he would often create magical tools, bearing minor enchantments designed to aid in his duties. One day, the engineer revealed his latest, greatest creation: the Bag of Helping. Crafted with the aid of a human wizard, the Bag was enchanted so that whenever the bearer reached into it, they would draw forth a tool perfectly suited to whatever task was before them. He illustrated the Bag's powers by having the town's craftsmen reach into the bag, one at a time; each pulled forth the very tool used to ply their trade. The town cobbler retrieved a hammer; the town tanner withdrew a skinning knife; the town sculptor (famous for his invention of Lawn Humans) recieved a chisel. Naturally, the town was impressed, and it looked like the engineer was another step closer to fame and fortune. Fed up with his neighbor's annoyingly-serious demeanor, and jealous of both his success and the magical Bag, the prankster came up with a way to publicly humiliate the irritating engineer. Sneaking into his neighbor's house one night, he 'borrowed' the magic Bag, and took it to a chaotic sorcerer in the next county over. For a price (paid mostly in old pairs of noseglasses, hand buzzers, and whoopie cusions), he agreed to the gnome's plan, and altered the enchantment on the Bag. Instead of conjuring the tool most useful for the current situation, now the Bag would instead conjure seemingly-random assortments of junk, in an attempt to be as use-LESS as possible. His task complete, the gnome returned home and replaced the new Bag of "Helping" where it had been before. Sure enough, the next day the engineer attempted another public demonstration of the Bag, and was agast when, instead of the crescent wrench he had expected, he pulled forth a pink-polka-dotted parasol (mush to the amusement of the crowd). Again he reached into the bag, this time retrieving a book entitled "Animal Husbandry for Dummies". A third pull, resulting in a pair of white, heart-spotted boxer shorts. By this time, the crowd was laughing uncontrolably, and the poor engineer slunk away in disgrace. Over the next several days, the prankster watched with glee as the engineer tried vainly to figure out why the Bag would no longer work properly. Dozens of times he reached into the bag, only to draw out just as many bizzare, utterly inappropriate items. Unaware of his neighbor's prank, the engineer decided that the enchantment of the Bag had somehow gone awry, and so set out to return to the wizard's house to have it fixed. Unfortunately, it is here that the first tragedy of the Bag's history occured. While passing through the forest, the engineer was attacked by a pack of wolves. Outmatched, he dug frantically though the Bag, desperately seeking something with which to defend himself. Sadly, he was promptly torn to shreds when the Bag provided him with an unmatched left sock. The Bag itself was never found by the townsfolk, having mysteriously disappeared... (On a related note, the gnome prankster is said to have accidentally laughed himself to death after a particularly mean-spirited prank involving magical laxatives and the town harvest festival.) ----- Many adventurers have carried the Bag throughout the centuries. Though they have certainly been a quite varied lot of people, their stories (concerning the Bag, anyway) all reach one of two ends: 1) They eventually become so frustrated by the infuriating randomness of the Bag that they simply discard it in some fasion; or 2) The Bag fails to provide help at a crucial juncture, resulting in the untimely death of its owner. In either of these cases, the Bag simply waits to be discovered by some new owner...and then, the fun begins anew. There is, however, one particular tale worth noting...the tale of Sir Guyver the Infinitely Adaptable. ----- SIR GUYVER'S TALE Sir Guyver was an unnotable knight in the service of an unnotable king ruling over an unnotable kingdom. Like most knights, he often struck out on quests for either the sake of heroism or the sake of not losing his job. On one particular quest, Sir Guyver was tasked with infiltrating a local dungeon and slaying a malevolent sorcerer who resided there, one that had been terrorizing the local populace for quite some time. Shortly after entering the dungeon, he chanced upon a secret room (unknown to the sorcerer) containing the Bag of "Helping". Not suspecting its true nature, he took the bag with him, hoping its item-conjuration abilities would help him against the sorcerer's impressive magic power. Shortly thereafter, Sir Guyver found himself on the wrong side of a heavy locked door. Lacking the strength to bash the door down, and the skill to pick the lock, he reached inside the Bag of "Helping" in hopes of recieving assistance. What he wound up receiving was a single copper coin. The Bag chuckled inwardly, once again impressed by its own sense of humor. It quickly became shocked, however, when Sir Guyver grinned! Using the coin as an improvised screwdriver, the crafty knight was able to dismantle the hinges holding the door in place and remove the offending barrier. The Bag was agast; never in its existence had it helped someone without meaning to! Later, Sir Guyver found himself caught in a trap; imprisoned in a room of solid iron, with the floor sliding out of sight beneath him, revealing a pit of deadly magma. Again in need of assistance, he reached into the bag, and found himself with a common toilet plunger (well, common for Sir Guyver...this particular kingdom was ahead of its time with regards to indoor plumbing). Again, though, he found use for the item, using it to suspend himself from the wall, out of reach of the magma, long enough for the trap to reset. Thus did Sir Guyver's quest fall into an interesting pattern. Each time it was called on, the Bag would issue forth a seemingly-useless object; and each time, Sir Guyver would somehow find a use for the object, *despite* its uselessness. This improbable chain of events continued all the way to the finale of the quest, when Sir Guyver defeated the evil sorcerer using nothing but a Bag-conjured bedpan. Though rather miffed at first, the Bag soon came to see Sir Guyver as its ultimate challenge. For the rest of the knight's career, the Bag continued to feed Sir Guyver increasingly-irrelevant items, in hopes of someday stumping even him. According to legend, however, Sir Guyver was never once unable to turn the Bag's lemons into lemonade. After a long and fruitful adventuring career, the now famous (and very rich) knight retired, and was given the title of Sir Guyver the Infinitely Adaptable, in honor of his now-legendary exploits. Years later, as he lay on his deathbed, he bequeathed the Bag (which was, at this point, *extremely* pissed off) to his only son, an up-and-coming knight in his own right. Sadly, however, Sir Roger the Ill-Prepared proved to be far less adaptable than his father. On his very first quest thereafter, he was killed horribly while attempting to hold off a group of bloodthirsty zombie shamblers with nothing but a rusty spoon. The Bag, reassured of its role in the universe, was lost with him.