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Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DeVorn" data-source="post: 4402589" data-attributes="member: 72822">Brief description of a street in the Rookery:    It was usually the smell of the place that hit you first--like a freight train filled with flaming manure plowing straight through a field of stinkweed. It stabbed its way to the back of the brain, signing its signature at the top of your spine. At times it would be husky and ripe, like freshly burnt gunpowder; then it would grow dry and brittle like dead leaves mixed with sand. It was a smell you could always recognize but never quite remember.     The Rookery was several dozen tight knots of vendors, carts, and houses tied along a crooked and winding length of road. The tall and looming brick walls drew so close in some places that no more than two people could cross at a time--and the way they tilted inward toward the street implied an imminent avalanche of mortar and timber.    A gargantuan mechanical spider picked its way up and over the crowd, its delicate bronze legs scraping across cobblestone as thick ribbons of soot and steam belched out of its smokestack. A gondola containing a mobile smithery sat on top, filled to the brim with metalworkers in sweat-stained shirts who diligently reinforced any building that revealed signs of a potential collapse. Valves along the machine's metal belly hissed and released great clouds of vapor, thoroughly drenching anyone unfortunate enough to be below it; meanwhile, urchins in rags dashed in between the pincer-like feet to snatch up pieces of lead and metal that inevitably tumbled down from the workers' hands. Sometimes, a coveted lump of  coal would fall, inciting the children into a frantic scramble.    Restaurants kept afloat by sheepskin balloons inflated with hot air or gas catered to the whims of their strange flying clientele, who would soar over the heads of the Rookery denizens and enjoy their lunch while people-watching from a lofty perch. A few of the nastier customers would dump their finished meals onto the people below, or even relieve themselves on some poor sod's head.</blockquote>

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