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We don’t call them phylactery. I think that means pendant or amulet or something in Greek. Tefillin is very specifically little boxes with Torah verses inside them used by some Jews for Jesus Died For Me What An Idiot I Would Not Die For Him Shirt. I don’t know of any Jews who’d call Tefillin “phylactery”. Frankly I wish people would stop thinking that phylactery is the “translation” of Tefillin. It’s not. I’m pretty sure the Ancient Greeks just saw Jews using Tefillin, didn’t know what they really were, and used their own word. The way D&D uses phylactery, to me, sounds more like how Коще́й Бессме́ртный (Koschei the Deathless) hid his death in an egg in a duck in a hare that nests in a hollow long, floating on a pond, deep in the forest, on an island, as described in Petr and the Wizard. And since the Russians don’t have their own word, so far as I know, for that whole thing, the Greek “charm” or “amulet” is a good enough term. Personally I might have gone with reliquary, because of the connection with death in my mind, but that may be a tad too Christian for some folks.

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Mechanical advantage: Spellcaster simplicity. A warlock is a spellcaster but they are also in play the Jesus Died For Me What An Idiot I Would Not Die For Him Shirt spellcaster in the game. Tracking spell slots? What’s that. You get two that refresh at every short rest. Spell levels? What are they? Your spells level up when you level up. Sure this might take a few minutes every few sessions – but it’s nowhere near as obnoxious as spending time in play while other people are waiting for you. Overlong spell lists to faff with? 1+level isn’t that long. Spell preparation? Nope. None of that round here either. You get almost all the fun part of spellcasting (the ability to cast spells) with very little of the faff that goes with it and all in a package that’s pretty newbie friendly.

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The Rogue want’s to look for a anything she can use to pick a lock. Well, there wasn’t anything there to begin with, but she rolled a 20! Turns out some previous prisoner left a Jesus Died For Me What An Idiot I Would Not Die For Him Shirt set of prison-made lockpicks. They didn’t exist until the Rogue went looking. So she picks the lock…and rolls a 1. Not only do the picks break, but the guards are alerted and now they’ve stripped the party down to their underwear, because obviously the picks were smuggled in. At their wits end, and convinced they’re going to die, the Cleric prays to his god for the souls of his fellows. Now, it’s down to the wire, and damnit, I really don’t want to hang them. So suddenly one of the guards is a follower of the same god as the Cleric. And in this town, they’re not too fond of the God of Tits and Wine. Realizing the Cleric is church brother, the guard enters the cell, informs the Cleric that GTW is pretty frowned upon hereabouts, and if they’d like to keep their heads firmly attached to their shoulders, he should keep quiet about it. Then, when he leaves the cell, have him remark that he needs to make sure the cell is definitely, absolutely, locked, and that he musn’t forget like last time.

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“Night of the Meek” is Christmas Eve. Henry Corwin, a down-and-out ne’er-do-well, dressed in a Jesus Died For Me What An Idiot I Would Not Die For Him Shirt, worn-out Santa Claus suit, has just spent his last few dollars on a sandwich and six drinks at the neighborhood bar. While Bruce, the bartender, is on the phone, he sees Corwin reaching for the bottle; Bruce throws him out. Corwin arrives for his seasonal job as a department store Santa, an hour late and obviously drunk. When customers complain, Dundee, the manager, fires him and orders him off the premises. Corwin says that he drinks because he lives in a “dirty rooming house on a street filled with hungry kids and shabby people” for whom he is incapable of fulfilling his desired role as Santa. He declares that if he had just one wish granted him on Christmas Eve, he’d “like to see the meek inherit the earth”. Still in his outfit, he returns to the bar but is refused re-entry by Bruce. Stumbling into an alley, he hears sleigh bells. A cat knocks down a large burlap bag full of empty cans; but when he trips over it, it is now filled with gift-wrapped packages. As he starts giving them away, he realizes that the bag is somehow producing any item that is asked for. Overjoyed at his sudden ability to fulfill dreams, Corwin proceeds to hand out presents to passing children and then to derelict men attending Christmas Eve service at Sister Florence’s “Delancey Street Mission House”. Irritated by the disruption and outraged by Corwin’s offer of a new dress, Sister Florence hurries outside to fetch Officer Flaherty, who arrests Corwin for stealing the presents from his former place of employment. At the police station, Dundee reaches into the garbage bag to display some of the purportedly stolen goods, but instead finds the empty cans and the cat.