Wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement by a spellcaster)
This magical pipe was originally enchanted in the sky-bound kingdom of Edonia. A masterful work of art that has endured over time, this pipe has the ability to transform ordinary tobacco into a malleable and mysterious smoke.
The pipe has 9 charges and regains all expended charges each day at dawn. In order to use any of the pipe’s magical properties, there must be tobacco in the bowl of the pipe.
While holding this pipe, you can use an action to cast the Prestidigitation spell from it. In addition, you may cast the following spells from the pipe as an action by expending charges:
Zone of Truth - 2 charges
Stinking Cloud - 3 charges
Mental Prison - 6 charges
You can only cast the above spells through the pipe that would normally be available for your spellcasting level, and using these spells does not expend spell slots. For example, a 3rd level wizard would be able to cast Fog Cloud, Sleep, Zone of Truth and Gust of Wind through the pipe.
In addition, when casting any of the above spells through the pipe, you can choose to expend any number of additional charges to cast that spell at a higher level. This level is equal to the amount of total charges spent. For example, a 14th level wizard can cast Cloudkill at 7th level by expending a total of 7 charges.
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The Wise Mandolin Tavern was booming with life. Gleeful music was being played by a young, plain-looking human troubadour and a slim, graceful human woman with striking jet-black hair that hung over a green dress. While two-dozen drunkards gawked openly at the woman atop the small square stage, two bartenders scrambled to serve the influx of demanding customers.
Several stools were dragged across the wooden floorboards around the corner beside a hearth, where an old, white-scaled Dragonborn sat forward in an armchair, refilling his pipe, before lighting it.
“Then what happened!?” one of the patrons asked desperately.
Donaar Almenondod sat back, taking a long pull on his pipe before sending forth a cloud of smoke that blew forth like the waves of the ocean. “The storm was unrelenting, and the hull of Keegan’s ship, the Yellow Mongoose, waned, splintered and creaked. He thought of the venerable sages that told him he’d make it, and thought them liars, cheats, thieves.”
As the two bartenders passed by, expertly balancing a dozen tankards, even they were entranced by the dragonborn’s tale. He continued, “As the sailors hurried frantically to reef the final sail, the captain looked starboard. There he spotted a wave larger than any before it. The only words that left his mouth were that of his goddess.”
Donaar paused again, taking another drag of his pipe before sending out a plume of smoke that split amidst a column of light. The gathered crowd listened fervently. Donaar smiled a wry smile.
- Donaar Almenondod shares a riveting story with a gathering crowd