Ambitious Medic’s Box (Patreon)

Ambitious Medic’s Box
Wondrous item, uncommon (requires attunement)

This wooden box has two halves which are magically locked by ornamental clasps that can only be opened during certain times of the day. The box is 1 foot wide, 2 feet long, and weighs 3 pounds. You can open and use the box as normal, as described below, even if you aren't attuned to it.

The left side is locked by a metal clasp decorated with a sun. From dawn until dusk, you can open the left side of the box, which contains the same contents and functions identically to a healer's kit. Each day at dusk, the left side of the box magically closes and regains all expended uses of its healer's kit.

The right side is locked by a metal clasp decorated with a moon smoking a pipe. From dusk until dawn, you can open the right side of the box, which contains three pewter steins, a flask, and a wooden pipe. While holding the flask, you can use an action to speak its command word followed by either "beer", "wine", or "whiskey". When you do, the flask magically fills with up to 4 gallons of beer, 1 gallon of wine, or 8 ounces of liquor, depending on the chosen drink, which can be poured out as an action, up to 1 gallon per minute. Once this property of the flask has been used, it can't be used again until the next dusk. The wooden pipe is magically refilled with tobacco daily at dusk. Each day at dawn, the right side of the box magically closes, and anything removed from the box is magically returned to it.

While attuned to the box, you are proficient in the Medicine skill and can open either side of the box at any time. If you're already proficient in the Medicine skill, your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make that uses that skill.

He hated the adventuring: the uncertainty of life and death, the lost comforts of home, and the walking. It was a far cry from his comfortable life back in Breezeport. Gods, how he missed having a bed.

But he knew that it was his job to worry as a healer and caretaker. His concern allowed those braver than he to charge headlong into battle: a kindness and responsibility they'd remind him of often during his evening smokes. It was a kind of comradery that was new to him.

So it was with a caring and poetic irony that he left his box and equipment to the group before they parted ways. Though he had returned home, he hoped that the box would serve as a constant reminder to them that even though he may no longer be with them, it would still fall to him to help his new friends come back home alive.