The Monkey's Paw

A weathered, dried monkey's paw sits on a velvet cloth before you. Its fur is matted and dark, its fingers curled slightly inward. A faint hum of ancient power emanates from it.

You have found me.

The voice seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, like whispers carried on stale air.

I am the Paw. I grant wishes—no more, no less. What you desire, you shall receive. There are no tricks here. No hidden costs. Only... fulfillment.

One clawed finger twitches slightly.

Speak your wish.