"Ppffttt!" Embuk spit the incredibly bitter brew on the floor as if trying to avoid swallowing a deadly poison. "This is horrific!" Wiping spray from the front of his leather he shot his dwarf companion a harsh look. "Is this a joke?"
Markun continued braiding rope lines together, "You're not facing north." He looked up a moment. "Keep trying, you'll find it."
"If by find it you mean point the way with my poisoned corpse." Embuk turned a quarter radius and chewed on his glove to try and get the aftertaste to vanish before imbibing from the dinged up tin mug again.
The sound of violent wretching brought Markun's braiding to a halt. "Aha! Ya found due South! Just turn the opposite and we can be on our way when I finish this last climbing line. There's treasure to be had in the dead wyrm's lair and now we know where to look."
Embuk lay on the cavern floor a look of nausea covering his countenance like a mask. Occasional dry heaves kept the time and before long the dwarf announced he was ready to move on.
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Magic Item: Dwarven Compass
A rare item that the dwarves fashioned mostly as a joke to hand out to non-dwarf companions, yet it still retains value for anyone underground and trying to find their way.
This very ornate tin mug changes the taste of any brew poured into it allowing the drinker to discern true north by taking a mouthful of beer. True north makes it taste like the best, most refreshing beer the imbiber has had. East and west are quite sour and south causes uncontrollable vomiting, nausea, and dizziness for a period of time. One turn (ten minutes) on a failed save, and 1 round on a successful save. Apply appropriate penalties if this happens during a combat.
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