1. Poppet Pipe: Shaped like a grotesquely stretched little man with his ankles beside his ears, his gaping maw the bowl and his narrow bum the lip. When a part of a creature is smoked in the pipe, the smoker gains insight into their condition and location based on how big the part was. A few strands of hair might produce a body load reminiscent of the creature's level of health and injuries. A fistful of the same might grant feverish glimpses of the creature's surroundings, and an intimate experience of their strengths and weaknesses.
2. Emboweling Forceps: A toothy forceps that looks more like it belongs in a torture chamber than an emergency room. When used to close a wound, the forceps negate the damage dealt by that wound, and transforms it into a mouth. If someone with a wound closed by the forceps takes other damage, the damage which the forceps negated returns. This also occurs if they have a different wound closed by the forceps.
Until the damage the forceps negated is healed by other means, the mouth it leaves will (1d4):
1: Develop a voracious appetite, and require its own share of rations.
2: Mutter its bearer's secret intentions.
3: Shriek at inopportune moments, ruining any chances its bearer has of surprise.
4: Nip at nearby flesh while its bearer is asleep, having a 4-in-6 chance of ruining an otherwise good full rest.
3. Carcerian Arrows: Arrows with shafts of dusty stone, and forked iron heads. When more than one Carcerian arrow is shot in an area, they'll sprout chains that link between themselves and bind around the spots they're embedded in. Come in bundles of 1d4+1.
4. Planar Suspender: A lead disk inscribed with mathematical formulae, and four articulated claws around its rim. On its back is a triangular switch with three possible positions. When the planar suspender is attached to an object, that object is locked into its position on one of the spatial planes, depending on the setting of its switch. For example, if the planar suspender is set in the first position, the object it's attached to can be moved side to side, and forwards and backwards, but not up or down, and so on and so on.
5. Cardial Caesura: A disembodied heart with its ends capped off by amber plugs. Can be "primed" by pumping it, which gets it beating on its own, at a rate synced up to the heartbeat of the person holding it. After 1d4+2 rounds, the caesura stops beating again, and in the process stops the heart of the person holding it when it does.
6. Claustrophobomb: A light aluminum sphere with the impressions of hands pressing out from within. When given a hard squeeze, a claustrophobomb will shortly thereafter detonate, causing a localized spatial implosion. Within an enclosed space, like a dungeon room, the space will decrease by a quarter of its full size each round. After four rounds, the space will have diminished to nothing, and the surrounding area will contract inwards around the diminished space as though it never existed. Anything within the space after four rounds is crushed and destroyed. Exits from the space (windows, doorways, etc.) maintain their full size throughout. If detonated outdoors, the claustrophobomb will release some disturbing distortions, but otherwise have no effect.
7. Ghosttallow Candle: A candle made from something between blue smoke and wax. Within the reach of this candle’s light, transparent and translucent materials become intangible to opaque materials, and opaque gases and liquids act as solids with the hardness of wood. A randomly found candle is big enough to be lit for 1d6*10 minutes, or lit at both ends for half that duration and twice the area of effect.
8. The Sail of Seaworthiness: A white linen sail always followed by a gentle breeze that smells of the sea. Anything the sail is attached to behaves in the water as though it were a sailboat, with comparable buoyancy, speed, and maneuverability.
9. Omicron Exinda: A metallic orange object shaped like a pyramid with its top third lopped off, etched with sigils. When activated, the Omicron Exinda will reverse time by one hour. The activator and everything they interacted with during that hour will retain full memory of what transpired during it. Single-use.
10.The Rat King's Crown: A crown of lumpy gold and long, sharp incisors. Whoever wears it is recognized as the true king of rats, above any tail-tied imitation. However, the king has been gone a long time, and much of their authority has waned. The wearer is able to speak with rats, and can ask favours of them that don't take more than a day to complete or put them in harm's way. The wearer can also hire swarms of rats as a hirelings, paying them in rations and pretty trash rather than coins. Each swarm counts as a single hireling. Over time the wearer might build back up their kingdom, and all the prestige and loyalty that comes with it.
11. Mask of the Beautiful Ones: Immaculate white porcelain with ruby-red lips bowed in a coy smile. When placed upon one's face the mask fuses to the skin beneath, taking on the appearance of living flesh, though its expression never wavers. The wearer no longer needs to eat or drink, and they gain advantage on reaction rolls with any intelligent humanoids. However, any positive reactions gained with the mask are tainted, turn ugly, and those influenced by it will come to want to possess the wearer.
12. Omnisponge: A shiny black sponge with holes that seem to go far deeper than the sponge's size would make possible. The omnisponge can soak up up to 1,000 cubic feet of liquid. Liquid soaked up by the omnisponge is effectively massless, and remains in stasis in the state it was in when soaked up. The bearer of the omnisponge can choose which and how much liquid is released when they squeeze it. While the omnisponge can't be harmed by liquids (or indirect harms coming from those liquids, e.g. the heat coming off lava), it's as vulnerable as an ordinary sponge to other sources of harm. If the omnisponge is damaged it immediately releases all the liquid it's got soaked.
13. Boring Hole: Looks like a hoop of barbed wire, but the barbs are tiny drills. When placed against a surface and activated, the boring hole will create a tunnel1d6x1d6x10 feet deep, with open space using up depth but not otherwise blocking the tunneling. If placed against a creature, which must be unconscious or otherwise immobilized, the hole will do 6d6 damage. Believed to be the result of a mistreated and spiteful portable hole.
14. Canny Knocker: A coppery-green door knocker without a door, bearing the face of a grinning satyr. If placed against a magically sealed portal and knocked, the canny knocker will open it, though only for a round, and only once on any given portal, making each trip one-way. Besides physical portals, the canny knocker can also be used on the faint traces left behind by teleportation, gate, and similar spells, opening a portal for a round that leads to their destination. It has no effect on portals sealed by mundane means.
15. God-Image Prism: A prism that glimmers with indescribable colours, made by heretical scholars to refract the image of God in which one was made. If you use it you can rearrange the distribution of your stats and change your class to another at the same level. Forever afterwards divine magic can't heal you, and stepping on holy ground causes you to burst into flames. Can only be used once per person.
16. Ultimate Bait: A little clay pot with a faintly irresistible scent. It bears the seal of the fisherman-god. If uncorked or shattered, immediately and simultaneously trigger every wandering monster encounter on the local encounter table.
17.The Bladder of St. Elbari: A shriveled and vaguely smelly thing like a raisin the size of your fist. A leather sling is strung through it. While you wear the bladder you cannot die of suffocation. When you pass out from lack of oxygen, you wake up in the nearest space with breathable air, or wash up on the nearest shore if in a body of water (or other fluid).
18. Gargantua Serum: A syringe full of viscous yellow fluid. A randomly found syringe contains 1d4 doses. If injected into a human or demihuman, they transform into a gigantic version of themself (stat as hill giant) in a burst of rapidly growing tissue. Roll 2d6:
On a 2: They immediately go berserk, attacking and attempting to eat the nearest living thing. If they can't perceive any living things, they tear up their surroundings instead. The transformation and berserk state are permanent.
On a 3-5: They immediately go berserk as above. The transformation lasts 3d6 rounds, and then their normal self reforms in the swiftly-decomposing flesh of their giant body.
On a 6-8: They retain control over themself for 1d6 rounds, then go berserk for another 2d6 rounds after that, if they don't deliberately end the transformation while they're in control.
On a 9-11: They retain control over themself for 2d6 rounds, then go berserk for another 1d6 rounds after that, if they don't deliberately end the transformation while they're in control.
On a 12: They retain control over themself for 3d6 rounds, and then their normal self reforms in the swiftly-decomposing flesh of their giant body.
If the viscous fluid is consumed rather than being injected, the consumer transforms into an even bigger version of themself (stat as mountain giant, or whatever the biggest available giant in your system of choice is), and immediately and permanently goes berserk as though a 2 were rolled.
19. The Bell of Faithful Hans: A lead bell with a horse leather-wrapped handle that rings a deep, clattering note. When rung, a horse appears within ten feet, from behind an obstacle if possible. It is the same horse every time: Hans, a piebald stallion. Hans is exceptionally loyal and obedient for a horse, but generally ordinary otherwise. If Hans is killed and his bell is rung again, he will appear in an undead state still bearing the wound(s) that killed him, and still loyal to the one who rang it. The only way to prevent Hans from coming when his bell is rung is to completely destroy his skeleton.
20. Anagrammatogenesis Sludge: A vat full of stuff that looks like Enochian alphabet soup. Toss in up to three items, then rearrange the letters that make up their names into the name of a new item. If you can do this in less than a minute real-time, the sludge morphs into that new item, consuming the items tossed in in the process. If you take longer the sludge explodes for 6d6 damage to everything within 30 feet, and amalgamates whatever it kills into a hideous chimera.