Pocket Poppet
This little stuffed doll is featureless and has a small pocket sewn onto its belly. The pocket is large enough for a single coin, ring, or similarly sized object. You can link the poppet to a creature by attaching one or more defining objects to it using pins, wax, and so on. For each defining object, such as a clump of hair, an illustration of the creature's face, or a shred of worn clothing, the connection to the creature becomes stronger.
While holding the poppet, you can use an action to place an object inside its pocket and speak the command word. If the creature linked to the poppet is on the same plane of existence as you, it must make a DC 15 Charisma saving throw, which is modified by the sort of physical connections the poppet has to it. Even if multiple connections of the same type are attached to the poppet, each save modifier can only be applied once. If a target knows you're using this property, it can fail the saving throw voluntarily.
On a failed save, the object magically vanishes from the poppet's pocket and reappears in the bag or pocket (your choice) of the creature linked to the poppet. If the creature has neither a bag nor pocket on it, the object clatters to the ground at its feet instead. On a successful save, or if the creature isn't on the same plane of existence as you, the object remains in the poppet's pocket. This property can't be used again until the next dawn.
| Connection | Save Modifier |
| Likeness or picture | –2 |
| Possession or garment | –4 |
| Body part, lock of hair, bit of nail, or the like | –8 |
The farmer stepped quietly out of the craggy paths; none entered that maze of ever-autumnal gorges and vales without reason, and for him, it was year upon year of blighted crops. But he'd seen to it. And unlike tales giving up children, beauty, or years of life, all he had to do was harvest a little hair—from a friend, from a lover, from a local girl, and his own. He could see his fields hardier than they'd ever been, so strange as it was, nothing ill'd come of it, right? With who he called on, that was almost another world, right? A sick feeling engulfed him and, vision clearing, he saw at his feet a crow's feather piercing a single, small vertebra, the bone stained with drops of blood. The only thought that ran in his mind was, small as the price seemed, there would be no forgiveness for it. And no escape, either, from its creditor.