Bloodmire Phiale
This shallow, ceramic drinking bowl is enchanted to repurpose spilled blood into new life. The bowl holds up to 8 ounces of blood. Once filled, the blood begins to slowly swirl on its own. If left to sit for 1 hour without spilling, the blood in the bowl becomes a gruesome tonic that pulses with a faint, internal glow.
Drinking the entire bowl of still blood causes one of two effects. Roll a d12. On a 12, you take 12 necrotic damage. If this damage reduces you to 0 hit points, you are stable. On a roll of 11 or lower, you instead regain a number of hit points equal 4 + the number rolled. The blood is thick and sweet, but leaves a bitter aftertaste.
The blood's magic fades if it's poured from the bowl without being drunk. Once the bowl has been used in this way, it can't be used again until 1d4 days have passed.
The bloodmire bog used to be teeming with life, back when it was called the Syre Wood. The fey that lived there would come to visit, you know? They were mischievous, of course, but they were special. After the war it changed. The forest turned dull and gray, and all the songbirds up and left. Our old homeland was changing, and we didn't know why. Then the blood came. So, so much blood. Roaring tides of it swept through the undergrowth, tearing up roots and drowning woodland creature and person alike. The fey were gone. Whatever drove them off was evil, for sure. Years have passed since I lived there. I did visit, though, maybe 50 years ago. It had changed. What was a lush wood was now a swamp of blood. The trees have grown to lift themselves out of the bog, and what few patches of ground there are to walk on are muddy with red. The people seemed to return, though. Villages of all sorts of odd folk made their way as best they could through the bloody quagmire, making ends meet. While they didn't like the murk, it seemed they'd made their peace with it.