Does anyone else think that the concept of trinkets in 5e is underwhelming? They are strange things you choose to gain at character creation or find lying around, but that’s it. They don’t stand out as something to be used at the table or something that could inspire a quest. Personally, I think that might be because they are just not designed that way. They are simply strange things that exist—hence the name. But I think we can do better.

The Types of Trinkets

In my opinion, trinkets can be divided into two types: tokens and curios.

• Tokens are personal trinkets—items that hold meaning for the player who owns them. They are trophies from past adventures, keepsakes from loved ones, and mementos of bygone days. Their value exists solely for the player who carries them.
• Curios, conversely, are the strange, often seemingly magical objects found in the world. They are well represented in the trinket tables published by Wizards of the Coast—at least, you would think so. However, I believe Wizards of the Coast has done a disservice to curios by making them too simple. A single sentence does not spark much imagination, nor does it provide much for the Dungeon Master to build a story upon.

But this article isn’t about complaining—it’s about offering a solution. So, let me introduce you to Miss Quirra Nacklebinder.

Nick and Nack’s Curiosity Shop

Tucked away in the Grand Fey Marketplace is a small—some might say claustrophobic—shop nestled between a cabinetmaker (frequented by Nick and Nack’s patrons) and a print shop (frequented by Miss Quirra). The shop sign is a golden coin with a grinning goblin face on both sides, with an elegant script proclaiming it as Nick and Nack’s Curiosity Shop. Inside, the showroom is packed with curios from across the Feengrenze and beyond, arranged with unsettling precision. Mummified body parts, strange contraptions, books filled with indecipherable text, ominous baubles, and broken remnants of strange weapons and armor—all these and more adorn the shelves. The shop’s young goblin proprietress is at the center of it all: Miss Quirra Nacklebinder.

The daughter of pun-loving goblins and the store’s founders, Niklaus and Nackthilda Nacklebinder (aka Nick and Nack), Quirra carries on the family legacy by buying and selling anything peculiar that comes through her doors.

She appears to be about twenty in goblin years and is considered short even among her kind, barely reaching waist height on most humans. She carries a small stepladder with a carrying strap so she can speak eye-to-eye with the tall folk. Her attire is typical of city goblin women: a dirty plain woolen dress with a shawl (hers, notably, is rainbow-colored), muddy leather boots, and oversized glasses. While working, she dons a long apron over her dress—one with too many pockets to count, each holding a different tool of the trade. Most of these are magnifying glasses or small field guides covering arcane, religious, or druidic symbols. She also wears a pair of cotton gloves embroidered with arcane symbols in red thread.

Quirra is a playful bundle of energy. When someone brings a new item into her shop, she peppers them with questions: Where did you get it? What does it do? Why are you selling it?—along with a dozen seemingly irrelevant queries. This interrogation serves two purposes: first, Quirra is a genuine enthusiast of the weird, having been immersed in it her whole life; second, she must properly sort and label each new acquisition. Her organizational system is as eccentric as she is. Each shelf and cabinet is labeled not by object type but by effect—Things That Hum, Objects That Cause Bad Dreams, and Artifacts That Feel Slightly Too Warm.

Furthermore, she insists on crafting a label for each item, aiming to describe it as accurately as possible—at least, within the constraints of a 2×3-inch card. However, her descriptions tend to be a little cheeky. This playfulness extends to her customer interactions. She delights in teasing customers with sly remarks and wordplay, planting the seeds of curiosity until they must know more. She also has a habit of dramatically flirting with any goblinoid who enters—a routine that usually ends in either amusement or disaster.

Beneath all the banter and mischief, Quirra takes her wares very seriously. She knows everything about her merchandise and insists that people handle it properly—unless they want accidents to happen. She has no patience for those who try to haggle too aggressively or simply want a nice piece for the mantel. If they do not respect her merchandise, they must leave.

A selection from Nick and Nack’s

• Mummified Hand – A shriveled hand from an unidentified small species, strung on a rope loop. A crescent-shaped scar mars its palm. It is unnervingly warm to the touch and, under the light of a quarter moon, twitches as if reaching for something unseen.
• Broken Sword Hilt – The remains of an ancient weapon, its hilt still bearing the weight of forgotten battles. A jagged remnant of its black blade protrudes, cold against the skin despite the ambient temperature. Three runes in an unidentifiable script are carved into the blade’s surface—the last one fractured in half, as if sealing away an unfinished fate.
• Fragmented Map – A faded scrap of parchment, no larger than a playing card, depicting an unfamiliar coastline surrounded by open sea. Strange place names dot the landmass. When held up to firelight, hidden ink emerges, forming part of an incomplete sentence—something about treasure, though the rest is maddeningly lost.
• Water-Damaged Notebook – A journal swollen and warped by water, its pages filled with indecipherable writing and intricate anatomical sketches of plants and animals unknown to any scholar. Several hand-drawn maps mark cryptic locations, one of which highlights a step pyramid with a bold, ominous “X.”
• Puzzle Box – A small, ornate box carved with macabre imagery—grinning skulls, mournful ghosts, and dancing skeletons. Something rattles within when shaken. Yet no matter how many times one attempts to solve its mechanism, the configuration changes mid-try, defying logic and patience alike.
• Sealed Iron Lantern – A heavy, unyielding lantern with no visible way to open it or place a candle inside. Scenes of war and strife are etched across its iron surface. When someone dies a violent death nearby, a cold blue flame flickers to life within, burning without fuel.
• Bone Dice – A pair of yellowed bone dice, their six-pip faces replaced by grinning skulls. They seem to favor landing on skulls more often than probability should allow. When double skulls are rolled, the thrower alone hears a fit of hoarse, maniacal laughter echoing in their mind.
• Onyx Idol – A small, weighty idol of an unrecognizable creature, sculpted from black onyx and warm to the touch. On moonless nights, its pose subtly shifts. Those who sleep near it are plagued by nightmares—visions of endless corridors and whispering, unseen presences.
• Luminous Crystal Pendant – A large, polished crystal, softly glowing from within. When held up to the setting sun, it reveals fleeting glimpses of another time and place—distant figures in ancient garb, ships on forgotten seas, or battles long since fought.
• Macabre Iron Key – A black iron key with razor-sharp teeth shaped like a ribcage, its shaft resembling a spinal column, and its head a grinning skull. Suspended from a loop of strange, leathery material, the skull seems to wink at its owner from time to time, though never when watched directly.
• Unfathomable Compass – Encased in an ornate box engraved with nautical scenes, this compass refuses to point north. Instead, its needle drifts ceaselessly, tracking some distant, unseen object—perhaps a ship, or something far more enigmatic.
• Bone Flute – A flute carved from an unidentified bone, that emits an eerie, reedy sound when played. If The Banks of the Lee is played on the flute, everyone within earshot freezes, eyes welling with tears as they listen, enraptured, until the final note fades.
• Enigmatic Skull – The skull of a human, dwarf, elf, or goblin, etched with alchemical symbols. A faint, otherworldly glow lingers in its eye sockets, and it numbs the fingers when touched. If held to the ear, it whispers secrets—dark, intimate knowledge of things best left unknown.
• Sulfurous Oil Lamp – A brass lamp covered in esoteric glyphs. Though empty, it perpetually exudes the acrid scent of burning sulfur. When lit, it casts an eerie green flame that defies physics, flickering and leaping unnaturally as if alive.
• Shipwreck in a Bottle – A glass bottle containing an impossibly detailed model of a sunken ship, complete with skeletal remains and a seabed diorama. Murky liquid sloshes within, resembling seawater. On occasion, tiny fish flicker into view, and the distant, mournful song of whales can be heard from within.
• Jar of the Storm – A glass jar containing a miniature tornado, its lid sealed beyond mortal means. The storm within rages with perfect realism—flashing lightning, swirling debris, and all. Sometimes, if listened to closely, faint screams can be heard amid the roaring wind.
•  Hand of Glory – A desiccated hand, its stiff fingers curled around a candle molded from suspiciously fresh and pungent smelling wax. Arcane runes coil around the fingers, and the candle exudes a foul odor even unlit. It is said to be the sword hand of a long-dead pirate and the candle is made from the fat of the same pirate, yet it bears no sign of its infamous power.
• Endless Dice Bag – A small velvet pouch that, when turned inside out, appears empty. However, reaching into it always produces a single die of random shape, size, and material—gold, ivory, wood, or stranger things. Once rolled, the dice vanish, never to be seen again.
• Lensless Monocle – A brass monocle, conspicuously missing its lens. When placed over an eye, the wearer glimpses a distant coastline with a solitary lighthouse, and the muted sounds of the sea fill their ears. The rim bears an engraving: “To my bonny, this be where I buried me loot.”
• The Weeping Blade – An ornate dagger with a brass hilt. The dagger has a sapphire carved to resemble an eye in the hilt and swirling engraving on the blade which refuses to hold an edge. When somebody tries to use the dagger to cut flesh of any kind, the sound of weeping can be heard, and if the flesh is humanoid, tears drip from the blade