#JUST. LOLTH BEING A CULT WORKS FINE

[everybodyloveshippos]

[swordmaid]

for me… FOR ME..!!! and for shri’iia specifically the lock in for astarion’s romance is his graveyard scene in act 3.

i think it is too quick for shri’iia to be moving on to another relationship considering her previous one was with her mistress who essentially groomed and isolated her for like … more than hundred years. learning to chase her own desires and not moulding herself to what anyone wants her to be is something so new to her…!!! and something that she’s still learning how to be comfortable with….

and what I like abt romancing astarion with her is that I usually go for the dialogue path in his act 2 confession scene where you can ask him:

- what do YOU want to do?

and he goes like honestly idk what we’re doing but /this/ is nice. it just feels like two people exploring the option to love for the first time and taking things in their own pace rather than jumping straight into the relationship. they’re going at a snails pace… they don’t know what they’re doing but they like this feeling and the vibe and they want to more of it but they’re not ready to commit to anything yet and it’s fine for them …!! and they’re only committing by the end in the graveyard scene where significant time has passed and they’ve learnt a little more about themselves and they’re both more confident about their own desires and also how they want to be loved.

like it is so fitting I think… and sweet… not to mention astarion being a high elf & a vampire and shri’iia being a drow, they have all the time of the world for themselves so I def think they would want to take their time. except if shri’iia turns into a mindflayer or drider by the end then that plan is out the window lol

[autistichalsin]

Okay ONE more post about this, and then I'm going to try and disengage from the issue again.

I think what annoys me so much about the reactions to Halsin in the ultimatum is that the fandom is working BACKWARDS to make things fit a conclusion, rather than looking at the textual evidence to form a conclusion.

The fandom's conclusion: Halsin is racist to Drow.

Therefore: His objections to Minthara's actions are solely based on her race.

Therefore: It makes no sense that he is okay with a Lolth-sworn Tav, since he is Drow racist, which means he is just making Tav one of his Exceptions. His acceptance of Tav and willingness to judge Tav on their actions does NOT disprove that he is Drow-racist; it is, instead, an oversight in the writing of Halsin as a Drow-racist character.

But also: Halsin makes one comment early on expressing skepticism that a Drow Tav actually has reservations about killing another Drow, when Drow society is built on constant betrayal and culling of the weak. This proves that he is actually Drow-racist.

Further: It is really gross that Halsin is willing to sleep with the Drow twins. This does NOT disprove that he is Drow-racist; instead, it suggests that he will fetishize Drow while being Drow-racist.

Further: Halsin saying "Lolth's followers" does not make him not Drow-racist. Instead, it means he's discriminating against a religion, and also being very insensitive to cult victims, and he should turn the other cheek. It's actually WORSE if he hates just Lolth's followers instead of all Drow.

Further: Halsin's statements about Minthara's true nature are obviously about exclusively her race, and not her character as an individual. Therefore, his forgiveness of Kagha wasn't because he had seen her be a different and better person before her corruption by the Shadow Druids, but because she was not a Drow, and therefore, this supports that he is Drow-racist.

Therefore: Halsin's objections to Minthara are NOT based on her being a slave owner (and slavery supporter) while Halsin has trauma about being enslaved, and not about her attempt to murder everyone he knows, and not about concerns she will harm the player character (who Halsin has shown multiple times is EXTREMELY important to him), and not about fear for his own life, but solely about Minthara's race, which makes him Drow-racist.

Fandom refuses to see the inherent tautology of this, and it makes it impossible to stop the character-bashing. Instead of contradictory evidence proving Halsin isn't Drow-racist, it's either twisted to make it out like he wouldn't care about that thing if she wasn't a Drow, so he actually is MORE Drow-racist than he was before that issue was brought up, or it's written off as an "inconsistency" with a character as obviously Drow-racist as Halsin.

There is just no winning here. So fine, I give up, I guess I'm stanning a Drow-racist daddy now.

[baldurs-kinfessions]

(its 3rd person karniss vibes) just remembered how he was turned into a drider and . oogh warning for just generally depressing things?

definitely solidified my theory that kar’niss is MUCH MUCH younger than he looks, because he was turned into a drider as a late adolescent. he was (in simple terms) and albino drow in menzoberranzen, and therefore held in very high political regard, but he failed the trials of lolth because he was so socially isolated he had little to no drive to work hard. then got drider-ed and the rejection from his goddess combined with the madness made him a very easy target for the absolute cult. ooooogh

also off topic but something about being Labelas has made memories of my karnisss heart type easier to remember? something something archivist, probably, although im not sure if i was present for the events of BG3 or not. i dont particularly remember anything about a cult, which most gods seemed to at least know of the absolute, but theres also a non zero percent chance i just did not care because i had more pressing matters on hand. also, someone used that name to refer to me a day or so ago and i couldve ran up the wall i got so happy.

also mod note you dont have to tag labelas because theres literally nothing under that tag anyways lol. he’s a dnd god so please let me know if i shouldnt talk about that here but i think its fine since i only mentioned myself in relation to the events of bg3. i’ll stick to labelas posting on my main account dont worry lol

what a doozy of a confession. so many thought trains…. i blame the coffee

#🕷️🏮⁉️

🐙

[fiachrastudios]

Hello there! Many thanks for the follow, traveler~ I adore your traditional art! It's finely colored...makes me feel all nice and cozy! Have a lovely day 💙

And if I may ask one parting question about your dear Tav, Aelar Melianme; do you have any fun facts about his lore? Cheers!

!!!! Thank you so much!!!!!

(I had to redraft like this whole thing after digging deeper into Drow lore and learning that the reason I hate it so much is that the good stuff got buried to make Drizzt more special????? So it turns out my headcanons for them are closer to some of the established lore haha. Anyway.)

Aelar is a Moon Circle Druid who grew up in the Underdark as a Lolth-sworn drow. I hate the way Drow lore was originally presented to me as being super misogynistic and racist (shocking for D&D, I know) but after learning about Eilistraee I actually like the pre-Drizzt lore more than I expected. Personally, I see the Lolth-sworn Drow as being like, run by radfems and is only seeming like a matriarchy to outsiders, when in reality it’s still super gender-essentialist and transphobic.

Aelar grew up in Menzoberranzan but was always ostracized growing up in Lolth's cult. He was pretty sheltered and cut off from the outside world, so he could never really put into words why he felt so distant from everyone around him. His family forced him into an engagement he didn't want when he was in his 90s, and he finally had enough and ran away.

At first, he ran as far as he could without paying heed to where he was going. He just wanted to get away as fast as possible. When he stumbled across an exit to the overworld, he only took it to shake off his pursuers. He was struck by how beautiful the stars were as he stepped out of the cave that first night. His whole life he had been told that the surface was a disgusting place, so overbearingly bright that no drow would ever have a reason to visit, but instead he was greeted by the gentle cascade of starlight on a cloudless night. He was so entranced by their light that he didn’t notice the smiling drow woman observing him silently from the shadows.

After that, he spent a few years wandering south along the Sword Coast. He preferred keeping his own company, for the most part. The discrimination he faced from Faerunians certainly didn't help but there was something...else, nagging in the back of his mind. Besides, owls made better conversation mates anyway.

His conversations with the bees were really life-altering, though. Drow society is very binaristic and heteronormative, and hearing about the queen/worker/drone system was eye-opening for Aelar. At first, he was just fascinated by it all. Something he felt the first few times he encountered other trans people. But it took him a few decades to realize why he was so intrigued by all of this stuff : ). 

Eventually, he made his way into Waterdeep. The loneliness of the wilds had been getting to him, and try as he might, he could never fully connect with his animal companions. It didn’t help that they lived such short lives, even compared to humans. He worked in Undercliff for a while as a horse groom for the Amcarthras, but he grew sick seeing the foals he raised being sold off to the City Guard to be abused. He moved into the city proper and has been tending some shithole bar while gradually saving up for surgery for the last 60 years or so.

He’s never realized it, but Eilistraee has been silently guiding him since he left the Underdark. He ran across some of her worshippers in Waterdeep, but never gave them too much thought. Even though it’s been a century and a half, he still hasn’t really unpacked everything he internalized from his childhood, and in his mind followers of Eilistraee are still something really taboo. Not necessarily that he hates them, more that it was just never really discussed openly and he feels discomfort the few times he’s been approached by worshippers on the streets. He’s only now starting to notice her presence in his life over the course of the game, and I like to think that his post-game adventures involve her : )

(I have so many more thoughts about Eilistraee and him and Astarion, who I gave the Elistraee sword too, but that’s something I’d like to explore more in a comic or a fic than this post ; ) )

[thecastingcircle]

The cult classic D&D cartoon of 1983 continues next year with Dungeons & Dragons: Saturday Morning Adventures, a four-issue miniseries published by IDW.

CBR can exclusively reveal Dungeons & Dragons: Saturday Morning Adventures will hit shelves in March 2023. Saturday Morning Adventures reunites D&D fans with the beloved adventuring party of ranger Hank, acrobat Diana, thief Sheila, barbarian Bobby, cavalier Eric, magician Presto and their unicorn companion Uni. This motley crew has their work cut out for them as the series will see them once again face their deadly nemesis Venger.

The miniseries -- described as a "lost episode" of the cartoon -- will be written by David M. Booher (Canto) and Sam Maggs (Rick and Morty Ever After), with artwork by George Kambadais (John Carter of Mars). IDW said of the series, "Danger lurks at every turn, the enigmatic Dungeon Master is less than helpful, and Venger -- the force of evil -- will stop at nothing to get his hands on the magical weapons that the kids have come to rely on. To top it off, Hank has made a startling discovery: Despite the dangers, Sheila, Bobby, Diana, and the others aren’t so sure they want to go home after all!"

"As a kid, I would wake up on Saturday morning, pour a bowl of cartoon-themed cereal, and plop myself in front of the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon," Booher said. "When IDW approached me about writing Saturday Morning Adventures, there was no chance I was passing up the opportunity to help this D&D party face Venger once more.

Maggs added, "As a lifelong D&D fan, it is an absolute dream to get to work reviving a childhood classic. It’s been such a blast working with IDW and the fine folks at Wizards of the Coast to home in on what made the Dungeons & Dragons Saturday morning cartoon such a cult favorite. Setting these characters up for a whole new run of stories has truly been a career highlight, and I hope fans will love seeing Uni (well…all our cool kids, but especially Uni) back in action as much as I do!"

"Just imagine being me—a 12-year-old boy in the body of a 38-year-old man—getting to play with some of the coolest yet cutest characters in one of the most immersive universes ever made," Kambadais said. "I am so lucky, yet so freaking scared as to whether one can ever be enough of an artist to take on this huge of a job. Here’s hoping that I’ll do right by Presto and Sheila (low-key my favorites)!"

A Brief History Of The D&D Cartoon

The Dungeons & Dragons cartoon series helped catapult D&D to mainstream success in the '80s right as the first edition of the game took off in popularity. The show was occasionally darker than typical Saturday morning fare and featured odes to the roleplaying experience that inspired it, from the red-robed Dungeon Master character (named after the role of the referee in the tabletop game) to monsters like the multi-headed dragon deity Tiamat and Lolth, the queen of spiders.

Instead of featuring the D&D game itself, the show had its protagonists riding a roller coaster that transported them to a magical setting. These characters most recently reappeared after nearly 40 years in the artwork of Dragons of Stormwreck Isle, a new adventure included in the latest edition of the Dungeons & Dragons Starter Set. Dungeons & Dragons went off the air after three seasons and 27 episodes. A final, unproduced episode, which was eventually released as an audio drama included as a special feature on the show's DVD release, hinted that Vengar was secretly the evil son of Dungeon Master himself.

Dungeons & Dragons: Saturday Morning Adventures releases in March 2023. Each issue will feature covers by Kambadais and Brenda Hickey, along with a special retailer incentive cover by Tim Levins.

[the-fearmonger]

Halstaff’s Gift

The wagons swept into Beregost like a graveyard breeze, unseen and unheard. The tents sprouted overnight, enormous mushrooms of fabric, filling the western field with every color and manner of promised delight. The tents themselves were marvel enough, but the sheer mechanics of erecting the surrounding wrought iron fence, in the space of one night, boggled the mind. Spelled out in iron letters across the top of the closed gate were the words, “Twilight Fair”, hanging below was a plain white sign and written in simple script, “Open at dusk.” Surely some magic was at work. But such is the nature of fairs and circuses, the shiny veneer distracts, obscures, and as often as not something darker, something much more sinister, hides beneath.

Hal awoke in the early dawn with a flood of inspiration. He leapt out of bed and hurried to his workshop, his footed long underwear swishing along the floor. He threw open the door, hurling wood shavings and sawdust into the air and strode to his chalkboard quickly sketching out his fading dream. Yes, yes, if he followed the grain here, he knew just the piece, and if he set a sapphire there, then… yes it could be perfect. He glanced up at his carvings of the Dragonslayers on the shelf above his work table. Phobian looked down, his expression suggesting caution. West’s mouth was open in some long monologue. Atticus’ eyes were narrowed as he scanned the room for valuables. Finn had his arms crossed, looking bored. Only Chet looked on excitedly, seeming to say, “Go for it, ya nacker!” Hal nodded at Chet, grabbed his tools, pulled the cloth off his project, and began working.

Seleen gasped. The bench was well built, sturdy without being bulky, but that was not what drew the eye. Into the backrest Hal had carved a landscape. Far off mountains gave way to smooth rolling hills and freshly tilled fields with an old fence that bordered a dirt road. In the foreground was a farmhouse, the front door open where the figure of a woman stood, her hand raised in greeting, or perhaps farewell, it was difficult to tell which. Each detail was painstakingly carved into the wood, Seleen imagined she could even see the individual hairs on the woman flutter in the wind.

She walked over to the bench, drawing her hand across the smooth wooden seat, “Hal, it’s… it’s beautiful,” she said, touching her own hair unconsciously, and he smiled, “but, I cannot accept it.”

Hal’s smile faded. “What? Why not?”

Seleen met Hal’s eyes for the first time since entering the room. “This is… a work of art, I cannot afford it…”

“No no, the price we agreed upon is fine, I want you to have it.”

“That is the other issue, my husband, he wouldn’t… Hal, you must understand why I can’t accept it. I’m sorry, I can find another carpenter.”

Hal’s smile reappeared, hardened this time. “No no, I understand. I have another bench I’ve nearly finished. It’s more … functional. I can have it to you before your husband returns from his hunt. Give me until this afternoon.” He said, turning from her, suddenly becoming very focused on the arrangement of tools on his workbench.

“If you’re sure.” Seleen said, “I’m sorry about the inconvenience. It really is wonderful.” She took a half step towards him, but stopped herself.

When Hal turned back, the door was swinging shut. He glanced up at the carving of Finn with his arrogant expression. “Oh shut up.”

Hal trudged down the dirt road towards Seleen’s farm, the plain bench balanced across one shoulder. It would have been a strenuous task for any ordinary man in town, even in a place of such hardy stock. But Hal was not ordinary, he was a hero, a hero driven by shame and unrequited affection.

Hal was determined to correct his mistake. Of course she would not be interested, she was married, with two children. It did not matter that her husband was away with the children on a hunting trip, he had been such a fool. Fighting the dragon cult had been easier than navigating women. But no matter, he would deliver the new bench, and maybe his foolish assumption would be forgiven, if not forgotten. Perhaps he would even ask her to accompany him to the fair, as friends of course, nothing more. Why wouldn’t she? After all the Twilight Fair is a once in a lifetime experience, or so they say.

Hal’s eyes darted toward Seleen’s silhouette as they walked side by side in the growing dusk. He still could not believe she’d said yes, he stopped just short of pinching himself. They talked of town gossip and the scantness of the harvest this season. Despite the subject matter he could not keep the smile from his face.

As they passed through the main square and began approaching the fair they both grew quiet. Throughout the day the town had buzzed with a nervous excitement. Travelers had become few and far between in Beregost of late. The townspeople were anxious for tidings and distraction. Hal passed two coins into the hand of the tall, spindly man at the iron gate who then waved them through, a dark smile upon his black lips. Hal even bought the two of them some exotic treat upon a stick. Had that halfling called them owlbear balls? Surely that wasn’t literal? It smelled delicious, like his mother’s cooking. No matter, he could eat an entire sack of owlbear balls and not be put off today.

The fair was a curious place, even outside the exotic edibles. There was a woman with eight legs, lauded as the daughter of the ancient Lolth, Hal was fairly sure at least three of those legs were sewn on, but he kept this to himself when an anxious Seleen hid her face in his shoulder. There was a drake they laughingly tried to pass off as an infant Chaos Dragon, Hal pointed out several inconsistencies in the creature to Seleen, which he was sure she appreciated. They even had their fortunes told by a decrepit tiefling woman. Hal had to smile at the adorable, scandalized expression on Seleen’s face when the crone told her a long, dangerous adventure lay just over her horizon. He barely listened when the tiefling woman told him he would not see another sunrise. Hardly a fortune that would prompt generous tips, he thought, but he flipped her a gold coin anyway and pulled Seleen from the tent.

There is a unique, careless joy to be had in the company of an alluring woman you know is not to be yours. Hal could not remember the last time he enjoyed himself so, perhaps when last the Dragonslayers had all been together. Not wanting the night to end, Hal spotted the Maze of Mirrors as they made their way towards the exit.

“Hal, this place stands my hair on end.” Seleen said, looking into the mirror as hundreds of Hals and Seleens gazed back.

“It’s ok, they’re just reflections.” Hal hesitated, then reached out in the gloom and took her hand in his, countless identical couples doing the same. He lead her on through the maze.

The deeper they went the more the noise of the fair faded. First the buzz of the crowd, then the ringing of a bell from a nearby game, until even the occasional childish shriek could no longer be heard. Silence descended on them like a heavy blanket until the air seemed to shimmer with its weight.

Seleen gripped his hand tighter. “I don’t like this Hal, why don’t we turn go back?” She said, panic beginning to edge its way into her voice.

“Yeah, ok, maybe…” He said, glad that she suggested it before he did. Hal turned and found his own image staring back at him. He would have swore they had come straight down a hallway, now the mirrored passage behind them made a hard left.

“Uh Hal, is it getting darker?” Seleen asked. It did seem hazier than when they entered, the torches lining the hall becoming fewer and farther between. The smokeless flames that had seemed charming when they entered now gave off a forbidding light. When Hal looked down the hall, for a moment it seemed like one of his images curled it’s mouth into a malignant smile, when he blinked, it was gone.

“I think you’re right, let’s head back.” Hal let go of Seleen’s hand and reached up, grabbing a torch from one of the nearby sconces. As soon as Hal removed it from the wall, they were plunged into darkness.

Seleen screamed and reached out, searching for Hal in the blackness where he had stood only seconds before. Her hands found only emptiness.

“Seleen!” Hal whispered into the dark. He had stumbled when the torches had gone out, and quickly became turned around in the dark. “Seleen!” He called, louder now. He groped his way through the inky blackness, jamming his hand into a nearby wall and let out a curse. He considered smashing one of the mirrors with his boot but did not want to bring shards of glass down on Seleen if she had fainted. She must have, where else would she have gone?

Holding the extinguished torch out in front of himself with one hand and letting the wall guide him with the other he walked forward, shuffling his feet so as to not step on Seleen if she had collapsed. He told himself the two of them would laugh about this in the light of day, to let themselves be so frightened by a simple carnival trick. But as he walked further through the darkness a pit grew in his stomach.

“Seleen!” He called again, his voice cracking. Yet he knew he was alone. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Why had he let go of her hand?? An inexplicable dread worked its way through his veins, seizing his every muscle until each step was a deliberate effort. How long had he been walking? Minutes? Hours? Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to move his foot another inch, a light flickered at the edge of his vision. The torches had reignited, illuminating the long straight hall and filling it with the stench of brimstone. A surge of hope and relief bloomed inside him, only to be stamped out in the next moment.

Images of Hal lined the mirrors on the wall, all mimicking his uneasy expression, except for one. At the very end of the passage a mirror stood facing him, only the image in this mirror was smiling. The same sadistic smile he had seen for a moment before, only now when he blinked, it remained. Suddenly, the smiling Hal leapt towards him. Hal knew he should defend himself, raise his hands, run, something! He was a hero! But he was alone, and he was afraid. As the figure bore down on him he opened his mouth to scream, and was engulfed by fear and darkness.

[greyhawk5e]

Raiding Tal’Dorei for your Greyhawk Campaign

A lot of D&D players (including me) like Critical Role, and Matt Mercer has created some great content for his campaign.  The “Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting” book has a bunch of stuff that is suiable for any campaign world, and the “Blood Hunter” class is now on DnDBeyond.com.  Just as the “Sword Coast Adventurers' Guide” had a couple pages on how to convert the sub-classes to an Oerth-based campaign, here are some suggestions for incorporating some Tal'Dorei goodness in the Flannaess.

The Blood Domain Cleric description sites neutral and evil deities as patrons for these Clerics. Basically they give evil options and one option that uses Blood Magic against villains, the Lawful Neutral Death deity the Raven of Matrons.  Probably the closest Greyhawk equivalent would be Wee Jas, The Suel goddess of Death, Magic, and the Law.  Also, when in doubt, any creepy ancient magics on Oerth always make sense for the Suel.

I feel like the Blood Domain would work for some clerics of Wee Jas and also for evil clerics of Erythnul and possibly Hextor.  For Blood Hunters and Blood Clerics who are opposed to evil, I feel an ancient sect of Wee Jas followers who have preserved Suel Blood Magic from before the Rain of Colorless Fire would be a great stand-in for the Claret Orders.

The Gunslinger Homebrew class from DM’s Guild should only have one highly specialized usage, as a multiclass choice available to high level Clerics of Murlynd, the only known Greyhawk character to use revolvers.

The Path of the Juggernaut seems like it would fit Ice, Snow, and Frost Barbarians, as well as the warriors of the Hold of Stonefist. The various Nomads and Rovers seem more into mounted combat and the Juggernaut seems very much to be an on-foot thing.  But Juggernauts coming off of raiding ships and marching into towns in the north seems to fit the setting well.

Because of the Nordic origins of Runes, I'm going to suggest the Suel of the Barbarian North once again for the Runechild Sorcerer.  But any nomadic culture without scholarly magic could producer a raw-power sorcerer like this.  Flan nomads of the Bright Desert might also be prone to producing a Runechild here or there, or villagers born in the strange lands of Blackmoor.

The Way of the Cobalt Soul, like most other Monk fighting styles, has only a few possible homes in a Greyhawk campaign. One is the Baklunish East, where the strange hybrid of Asian and Middle Eastern culture that is the Bakluni produces monks of Xan Yae and Zuoken.  Another is the Scarlet Brotherhood, where the Suel study monkish combat to help their racist crusade against everyone else.  And finally, the far Asian inspired lands of Shao Feng and the Celestial Imperium are perfect for producing monks who have wandered far into Eastern Oerik.

Backgrounds can go as-is, with the Greyhawk Thieves' Guild filling in for the Clasp, Grey College for the Lyceum, lots of candidates for Recovered Cultist, and Fate-Touched being applicable to anyone.  Only the Ashari has no Greyhawk equivalent.

Any of the new Feats can fit into a Flannaess campaign.  

The Vestiges of Divergence are all very cool magic items, and the idea of a three-stage magic item that increases in power along with the character is one of the best concepts in the book.  You don't need the concept of the Divergence at all to use them either.  Just explain that some very powerful magic items take a long time to attune to their wielder and require an extraordinary person with a strong will to unlock all of their might.  After that it's just a matter of applying a Greyhawk appropriate origin to each item and keeping the stats the same.

Agony seems like the kind of thing an ancient Cleric of Erythnul or a powerful Gnoll Shaman created.

The Armor of The Valiant Soul was worn by an ancient king of Furyondy and is buried under a battlefield.

Cabal's Ruin was a Cloak of Zagyg, and is buried somewhere beneath Castle Greyhawk.

The Circlet of Barbed Vision goes to the Drow, and is somewhere in the Underdark.  The Tal'Dorei setting's Spider Queen , after all, is clearly Lolth.

Condemner was the weapon of the founder of the Assassin's Guild of Greyhawk.

Deathwalker's Ward is an old artifact of Wee Jas, and was last seen in possession of the Silent Ones of Keoland.

Fenthras is a Bow of Ehlonna herself, lost somewhere in the forest by a great elven warlord of Celene.

Honor's Last Stand was created by Bahamut (who else could the Platinum Dragon be?) and is now in the hoard of an evil Ancient Dragon somewhere in the Lortmils.

Kiss of the Changebringer was given by Olidammara to one of his faithful rogues and is now somewhere in the Bandit Kingdoms.

Mythcarver was the sword of the founder of the Old Lore college of bards and is now lost somewhere in the Wild Coast.

The Plate of the Dawnmartyr was worn by a great paladin of Pelor and is held by the Pale in a deep vault.

Pyremaul was forged to kill Giants by the Dwarves.  It was taken to Geoff by a great Dwarven hero who died doing just that.  It now lies in the treasure hoard of a Fire Giant.

The Spire of Conflux is held by the Great Druid of the Old Faith.

The ancient Titanstone Knuckles are in the personal possession of the Wizard Bigby, fascinated as he is by all manner of “hand magic.”  

Whisper was used to assassinate many an Overking as it was passed down among the rogues of the Great Kingdom.  It lies somewhere in devil-haunted Rauxes.

The Wraps of Zuoken are held by a great order of Monks in Zeif, usable only by their greatest master.

Any of the Optional Rules fit in just fine.

Ignore the irrelevant monster backgrounds as Greyhawk has its own monster origins.

The Ashari don't fit in, but the stat blocks of the Firetamer, Stoneguard, Waverider, and Skydancer would make great bosses for the four factions of the Cult of Elemental Evil.

A Cinderslag Elemental makes a great servant of evil Baklunish wizards, or any of Greyhawk's Archmages.

The Clasp Cutthroat and Enforcer work well in the employ of the Thieves' Guild or Assassin's Guild of Greyhawk, Dyvers, or any other big city, as well as the Scarlet Brotherhood or the Slave Lords.

The Cyclops Stormcaller and the Goliaths are at home among the Giantfolk conquerors of Geoff and Sterich.  Tribes of Goliaths make great occupiers of subjugated human towns for Giant warlords.

The Kraghammer Goat-Knight can fight for any mountainous group of Dwarves.

The Ravagers would be great in the hordes of the Pomarj fighting for Turrosh Mak, or up in the northern hordes of Iuz

The Whispered One of the Tal'Dorei setting seems like a version of Vecna so the Remnant Cultist and Chosen would work great in any Cult of Vecna.