Fight Picker

Weapon (war pick), rare (requires attunement)

This war pick features a thrown punch as its hammer-ended side. You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. While holding this weapon, your unarmed strikes use a d8 damage die, unless it's already higher.

The weapon has 6 charges and regains 1d4 + 2 expended charges daily at dawn. While holding it, you can use a bonus action to expend 1 of the weapon's charges to make an unarmed strike.

When you hit a creature with such an unarmed strike or with an attack using this weapon, you can expend 1 of its charges to force that creature to make a DC 15 Charisma saving throw; a creature is immune to this effect if it can't be charmed. On a failed save, the target is compelled to fight you for 1 minute. For the duration, the target has disadvantage on attack rolls against creatures other than you; if the target makes an attack roll with disadvantage in this way, you can use your reaction to make an unarmed strike against it, provided it's within your reach. The effect ends early if you attack any other creature or end your turn more than 30 feet away from the target.

The half-elf's fist trembled with rage as she used the other to level her war pick across the table. Her chair had been flung behind her when she stood up; her brother's was neatly pulled to the side a second later to try and moderate the situation. Four men sneered at her from across the table, unbothered by the outburst or steel.

“Come on, you can’t,” muttered the brother, putting himself between her and the men. “Remember? Mum said to pick your fights better.” Her sharp eyes snapped at him like a curse—the fury behind her blue eyes bit harder than Everglacier daggerice. She swept her weapon over the table in protest.

"Beat one soundly," he said. "Then pick another if you need to keep going. Don't half-ass two—sorry, four things."

A snort slipped through her nose before her focus narrowed to a single target: the largest of the men with a thick scar across his forehead. He'd spent the evening hurling vile words her way. She held the war pick towards him, steadily.

“Right,” said the brother. “I'll keep the others waiting their turn.”