The third season, after that night with the orc, my spoon had become stained with red blood. The DM took my character sheet and wrote down, "Red Wooden Cooking Spoon" under one of my attack slots. It was now a magical weapon that had a +1 to attack and damage with an unknown critical bonus. He said I could feel power covering from the spoon as I held it. So I kept on holding it.
In towns, it was always in my hand. Whenever there was a fight, I was immediately ready to attack. And based on the rules in 3rd edition, I would normally have to spend an action to draw my weapon. But since no one questioned my spoon as a weapon, I usually got the first strike in. By this point, my spoon was doing actually slicing damage. I hadn't gotten a critical, but that was about to change.
We were in a fight with some bandits and had gotten to fifth level. Everyone was kicking ass, except for me. First tier wizards are still not great fighters when with a magical spoon. So I was more or less barely holding my own. Until I rolled a critical natural twenty. As it landed, the DM explained that I felt a rush magic surge through the spoon and tear open the armor of my bandit. A second later, his intestines spilled out onto the ground and he died. Everyone turned to me in awe. I held the spoon high and grinned at the other bandits in game. Their moral dropped and they gave up.
The DM took my sheet again and wrote down, "Red Wooden Cooking Spoon of Disembowelment." It has an automatic kill on a natural twenty attack roll. I was gaining strength, but I was still a two and a half foot aquatic pixie. At this point in the game, we were seventh level, about to turn eight. I had managed to stay alive and I was starting to do some damage with spells for a change, using my spoon as a wand.
All was well until we decided to steal a few magic items.