Talyard The Great's Wand of Power (Patreon)

Wand, uncommon

This normal-looking spruce stick is actually the wand of a famous drunkard. A drunken creature that sees the stick perceives it as a magnificent, colorful wand that radiates with an awesome power.

This wand has 3 charges and regains 1d3 expended charges each day at dusk. While you're drunk and are holding the wand, you can use your action to cast one of the following spells from the wand, even if you are incapable of casting spells: heroism (1 charge), lesser restoration (2 charges), or thaumaturgy (no charges). If you don't have a spellcasting ability modifier, Charisma is your spellcasting ability when casting these spells (minimum 1).

"Behold! I am Talyard, the Great!" shouted the man.

He was waving a stick around and making an ass of himself. His beard was stained and disheveled, and his clothes were questionably repaired, but the coin he brought was desperately needed. There wasn't much reason to come this far up the mountain for a drink anymore.

Of the three people at the bar, only one, Jinn, took notice of the haggard man. Jinn was also drunk, but harmlessly so. Poor man had lost his wife in the fire and could surely use the distraction. He got up and joined the bearded man, taking careful and deliberate steps across the room. I took his empty glass to wash and refill with water for when he returned to his seat at the bar.

The two drunk men began shouting in drunken whispers, passing the stick back and forth and admiring it.

"Szhow me how't works, Tal!" said Jinn, minutes later. His eyes were full of wonder. He was wobbling on his stool by the table now and sitting next to the messy man.

Talyard stood up slowly and climbed on top of the table. He held the stick in one hand and a tankard in this other.

"Hey, hey, now, be careful over there. If you fall, I ain't gonna nurse you back to health, ya hear?" I called over.

The man ignored me and held the stick up to the air. He shouted. They weren't words, but they might have seemed like them to drunkard.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, saying similar words but with more saliva. Again, nothing happened. Frustrated, he stared at the stick before turning his attention back to the cup in his other hand. He took a deep swig to empty it. Some of the drink dribbled down his mouth and into his beard.

"Gthinkra shtenickken!" he shouted once more, and this time made a wild flourish with the stick. I opened my mouth to shout back at the man, but the ground suddenly began to buckle and swell beneath my feet. Spoons and other silverware fell to the ground began to clatter against the floorboards. The poured drinks at the bar jostled and rippled, knocking against the polished surface and splattering their contents from side to side.

I held onto the bar, as did the two other men sitting there with me. We watched in disbelief as the man known as Talyard calmly stepped down from the table looking satisfied, and held the stick out to Jinn.