medium scoop of crystal confetti (two scoops) You never know what you might get!
Some items are handmade by me too
What’s all in the mixture? Incense cones Little bottles Key charms Tigers eye chips Raw quartz Turquoise chips Unakite chips Small wire wrapped crystals Beaded gemstone rings Gemstone bracelet Gemstone earrings Quartz chips Citrine chips Random type of crystals Sodalite crystals Each purchase also comes with a mystery tea
I thought it would be fun to put together a little list of items you should carry in a backpack/bag as a goblin! (for those into goblincore of course)
A Mason Jar(use it as a water bottle. Plus it’s more eco friendly.)
A Little wooden box/treasure chest (for little trinkets you find, especially if you don’t want it to break.)
A drawstring bag (for things you don’t think will break)
Little glass bottles (you can put specimens in them like flowers or dead things.)
A Journal (i would suggest looking into junk journals) or a book if you wish to read.
A Hanky (just in case!)
A big square scarf (I say this because you can use this to place on the ground if your wanting to have a picnic or simply relax. Plus it’s less bulky then a blanket.)
A pendulum (you can use a pendulum as a dowsing item and to help find things in the forest like a metal detector.)
A small potted tree sits beside the counter, and perched on it are a few small beasts. About only a handful, the creatures are all bright feathers and small wings. The beasts four paws cling to the tree branches as they hop about, calling to each other in songs and chirps.
The tiny songgryffs have their wings and front feet hobbled, but even though, they spring from branch to branch and sing to each other.
Interested? I just got them in today.
Fillie has appeared from the backroom, the urbangryff perched on her shoulders. You give a nervous glance between the small singing gryffs and the unnerving bulk of Irving.
Fillie chuckles. Don’t worry, they aren’t that kind of beast. These are alive and well. Sing pretty songs and keep your bug population down. 50 gold a piece.
The piano goes quiet. The plinking tune dying out, followed by a few soft thumps.
You look around for the small beast that had been sitting at the piano to see that he is gone without a trace. You’d seen urban gryffs around town, but none like this…
You turn to ask Fillie about it, and there it is. There it sits, perched on the cash register. It’s bright yellow eyes are locked on you.
You freeze.
From the shorter distance you can truly tell just how strange it truly is. It’s body is wrapped in a fine, pale mycelium, it’s wings are scraggly and musty, spores poofing into the air with each shift of it’s weight. It’s eyes are more intelligent than any animals should be.
I see you’ve met Irving.
Fillie’s voice breaks your train of thought, and you’re tense muscles release. The gryff, Irving, scrambles onto Fillie’s shoulder, soft growling squawks coming from it’s throat. She pats it’s head.
Sorry if he was bothering you. He’s started to pick up on the piano, but he definitely needs more practice.
When you walk into The Bundled Bone Bag today, the tables and shelves are pushed back against the walls. A circle is on the cleared floor in colorfulpowder.
Music floats around the store, Irving, the mycelium covered gryff, bangs out a song on the piano. The two vulture musicians play along, a joyful melody filling the space.
And in the colorful circle is Fillie and Ser Wintertail dancing together among a throng of people. They hop to the tune, laughing as they dance.
Pattering among the aisles is a older gentleman, cloak drawn about his ears. You can barely see his face. He looks up.
The man has the face of a hound dog, long floppy ears and all. His liquid brown eyes bore into you. You are the first to look away.
Here for the festival, eh?
The houndman’s voice his rough, and you notice touches of grey around his muzzle. You nod.
So’m I. Ser Wintertail, at yer service.
He straightens and readjusts his cloak, leaning on a cane as he does. It is a fine dark wood. He smiles at you.
I was on my way with a shipment for Ser Bravenbones. We served together, you know. Thought she had died, her mother was well broken up about it, but guess not. Now we’s working partners.
He picks something from the shelf in front of him. A bottle, a potion. It sloshes in the bottle, pale purple, with shadows that shift and move in an unnatural way. All you can glance from the tag is the word Fae scrawled in Fillie’s familiar handwriting.
He swirls the bottle, and winks at you, before moving off into a throng of other people, leaving you alone in the aisle.
