Okay, the wild magic sorc gets a level one feature where he/she can get an advantage on a roll once per long rest. But if the DM asks that sorc to make a wild magic roll, this advantage-granting feature resets - unless I'm completely failing to understand this rule (which is possible, the phb and I don't get along very well). Equally wild and messed up is the Wand of Wild Candy. Made from a shiny black twig that evokes black licorice (the divisive 'cilantro of the candy world'), it contains 6 charges and you must be attuned to use it. Each wave of the wand causes a different candy to appear, and the type of candy summoned is dependent on a d20 roll.

~ Chapter Nine ~

Aug 02, 2014 The D&D 5e previews keep on sneaking in. Recently, Codename: Morningstar had the preview of the Wild Magic system that comes bundled with the first 5e Dragonbord art to be seen. The table shows the effects that might happen when a Wild Magic. Wild Magic Sorcerer Wild Magic Surge. Starting when you choose this origin at 1st level, your chaotic nature can unleash bursts of untamed magic. Whenever you cast a sorcerer spell of 1st-level or higher, roll a d20. The wishing-wand is a modification of the magic wand. In making magic wands willow twigs may also be used for any type, for the willow is a very good fluid condenser.' Giordano Bruno's third image of Venus carries a willow wand ( De Imaginum Compositione (1591) Book 2, ch 13.

Just before they apparated outside of Little Whinging, Alastor Moody had instructed the small band of Order members to cast a dissillusionment charm on themselves. Even muggles were bound to take notice if nearly a dozen darkly cloaked and hooded witches and wizards were running down Privet Drive. As they approached the house of Harry Potter's relatives, however, it was obvious that sightings of cloaked figures were going to be the least of their worries.

With his magical eye Mad-Eye could see that all around them the air sparked with wild magic, the kind usually released in small spurts by magical children. The amount of magic that must have been emitted in that small area tonight, however, left Moody's mind spinning along with his eye. The rest of the Order members with him were shifting uncomfortably, sensing the imbalance of magic in the air but not able to locate its source. Explanations would have to wait though, because no sooner had they reached the house than it became clear that Harry wasn't there. Several streets in front of them where an ominous mist hung over the ground, the air lit up with a burst of blue light.

'Blast it anyway!' He growled in frustration, and not even Nymphadora Tonks chuckled at his odd cursing. They all knew that they couldn't risk apparating so close to Harry's house; as it was, the young wizard couldn't possibly be prepared for the consequences of whatever underage magic he had already performed that night. 'Move, move! Let's go!' Moody urged, limping ahead at an impressive speed. The mist ahead was rapidly clearing, and his heart sank at the implications. After they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the Dursley's home, Alastar noticed a large gated clearing on a hill up ahead. He thought it might have been where the blue light came from and gave the signal. Moments later, the group of witches and wizards appeared in front of the entrance to a cemetery. He winced, and saw out of the back of his head that Bill Weasley had also made the connection to the events of the final Tri-Wizard task. Holding a hand up for silence and keeping his wand pointed protectively in front of him, Alastor led the way into the graveyard.

He began scanning the ground and located a large boy huddled behind a grave. He almost turned towards him when movement to the left caught his eye. There was Harry, crawling away from the other boy, and Moody paused, doubting that Potter would ever abandon anyone when there was danger and wondering if somehow a death eater had managed to impersonate him. Before he had decided the best way to proceed, the one who might be Harry seemed to brace himself before standing and staring straight at him, a defiant look in his eyes. Moody shook his head and growled, gruffly covering up the grudging pride that he knew would be leaking into his voice.

'Boy, what have you got to go through before that foolish Gryffindor bravery is stamped out of you? Tell yer friend to get over here, you can stop protecting him.' He reached up one gnarled hand and pulled the hood off his head, watching the others with him do the same. He expected Harry to look relieved seeing so many friendly faces, but instead he squared his shoulders and his face set in a resolute glare.

'Professor Moody.'

'Never got around to much professor-ing, but aye.'

'Prove it.' Alastor saw many raised eyebrows at the bold statement, but he himself couldn't hold back a wide grin.

'Good boy. Ask me something only the real me would know.' Harry only had to think for a few moments.

'When Dumbledore found you after the tournament, what was the first thing you said to him?' Kingsley shifted uncomfortably, and gave the young wizard a disapproving frown. Moody just shushed him and nodded proudly. It was a brilliant question. Only four people were there that night: Harry, Moody, Barty Crouch Jr. (who had received the dementor's kiss hours later), and Dumbledore. The odds were as close to zero as he could get that anyone else had knowledge of the conversation.

'I said 'I'm sorry Albus.' It was the first apology I'd made in years. Well done, Potter,' he couldn't help adding.

'Brilliant,' the boy replied shakily before he slumped forward on the headstone in front of him and began shaking, small sparks of magic jumping sporadically from his fingertips.

'Bullocks,' Alastor muttered in alarm and aparated to his side. 'There's another boy hiding over there,' he told the rest of the group while pointing to where Dudley was still hiding. 'Control the situation here and return to headquarters. Work quickly, ministry officials will be arriving any time now. Kingsley, Tonks, get back to the office and see what you can find out from that end. Remus, you're in charge.' With that, he grabbed the trembling boy in front of him by the shoulders and both wizards vanished with a thundering crack.

XxXxXxXxX

Charlie Weasley's eyes were shut tightly, thoughts strangely relaxed as he waited for the torrent of fire to engulf him and death to claim him. He wasn't at all prepared, however, for strong claws to suddenly wrap around his torso and yank him from his broomstick, carrying him hurtling towards the ground. Mere meters before man and dragon would have crashed into packed dirt, Norbert spread his wings and they glided to a relatively gentle stop. Charlie tumbled into a barrel roll as the young dragon released him and as soon as his head stopped spinning he turned slowly to look up at the large reptile in disbelief. It was uncalled for for a human to get this close to a conscious dragon and live to tell the tale. Norbert watched him carefully, but otherwise didn't react more than shuffling his back legs restlessly.

Charlie watched the shimmer of magic swirl just below the surface of scales. It was magnificent to see, and only visible from such a close distance. He was sure that some part of him must be cowering in terror in the back of his mind, but he was too fascinated and curious for it to register at the moment.

'You know what's going on Norbert, I can tell. Why do I feel like you're trying to tell me?' He felt a little silly talking to a dragon as though they could really communicate, but he couldn't shake the gut feeling that he was missing something important. His fear was steadily draining away and Charlie slid down to sit comfortably leaning against a tree mere feet from Norbert's scaly skin. The dragon still seemed distressed, pawing the ground nervously and whipping his head high to send streams of flame into the air every so often, but he did not harm Charlie and showed no interest in leaving. 'Well, Petru did say my job was to make sure you were okay and not headed off to cause trouble with the mature dragons, so I guess you're stuck with me for now,' Charlie told him kindly, surprised when Norbert turned to watch him as he spoke, seeming to settle ever so slightly with the soothing tone of his voice.

Three hours later, Charlie's voice was nearly gone from constant dialogue he had kept up in an attempt to keep Norbert calm. He was drained, and had resorted to repeating topics a good forty minutes ago. Charlie had just begun to list current Quidditch team standings for a third time when Norbert froze, eyes and ears alert and body poised for action. Charlie froze with him, wondering if this was when reality hit and the young dragon burnt him to a crisp after all. Instead, Norbert made a sound that could only be described as a purr and visibly relaxed for the first time

Wand Of Wild Magic