One of the locations characters might enter while adventuring includes a barracks, and there might be some basic chests at the foot of each bunk in those barracks. What’s in them? You can use any of these details as starting points to flesh out some other interesting things if the player characters choose to look around a bit more. If you want to roll randomly for one, use the handy number provided with each entry to figure out your result on a d12. You can also pick the one that works for the area in which your characters currently linger.
- A swirling cloud of purple glitter rushes at your face and then hastily flees the area in a scintillating mass. It will be challenging to remove every last speck of the glitter from you—that stuff got EVERYWHERE on you. It itches. (In 1d4 hours, 1d10 new glitter clouds lift off the character and flee, but not without rushing other creatures in the way first. Continue this process until imaginative ways to remove glitter are discovered and used.)
- It looks like someone created a fancy shoe collection. There are some extremely good quality boots and sandals in this chest—all sized for someone with feet that are a lot bigger than the norm for the race that presumably uses (or used) these barracks.
- A half-finished crochet project is spread out over the drab clothing inside the chest. You’re not sure how that bright a pink came into existence, but since it’s right in front of you, clearly it exists. There’s an afterimage in your eyes when you look away. (The image lasts 1d4 minutes.)
- The chest is filled with porcelain doll hands. The next one over has porcelain doll feet. No matter how hard you look, though, you can’t find porcelain doll heads. Not here, anyway. Are these hands and feet moving of their own accord? Naw, surely not.
- There’s another chest inside. This one is bright red. Inside that is another chest: bright blue. Inside that chest is another chest: bright yellow. Inside that chest is another chest: bright green. How many more chests are there? And why is the room around you getting larger and larger with each chest you open?
- A baby kobold looks up at you.
- Words inside the lid of the chest say, “You might want to duck now.”
- Someone REALLY likes daggers. This chest is filled with them. They’re all ornamental, though, and don’t hold an edge worth a darn. A name is scratched into the blade of each one.
- Someone doesn’t believe in clean clothes: This chest, when opened, has grungy, musty, wet clothes in it that send you gasping for clean air. Wait a second. Are the clothes moving? Is that an ooze? And is it spitting golden buttons at you?
- Words inside the lid of the chest state, “Mine. Not yours. Mine. I will haunt you if you steal anything from this chest.” Coins of every sort fill the chest. (And, yes, if any are stolen, the character is haunted by a dour, snarky, cranky old man who keeps up a running commentary about the thief’s complete inability to understand the legalities of ownership. The ghost’s logic is flawed, but continuous, preventing the thief from sleeping unless the coins are returned or the ghost is destroyed.)
- The chest crumbles when touched, leaving behind a single crystal vial filled with a clear liquid that glows brightly.
- After the cloud of flies clears, you see that a putrescent arm and hand writhe in the chest.