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4 mos ago
Current No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style.
6 likes
5 mos ago
Today is my birthday! I wish you all a truly enchanted day!
19 likes
1 yr ago
Arguing over petty details at times of dimensional emergency was a familiar wizardly trait.
2 likes
1 yr ago
It's my birthday! I wish you all an excellent day!
18 likes
1 yr ago
A wizard never had friends, at least not friends who were wizards. It needed a different word. Ah yes, that was it. Enemies. But a very different class of enemies. Gentlemen.
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Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay. I've been busy with family life, but I'm aiming to get something up by tomorrow!
Somebody may have to coax him out of his hidey-hole first, though 😏
The Red Wizard

Hiding under a table, the red wizard was nursing his bottle of scotch while sweating profously, his eyes nervously darting back and forth. In retrospect, his earlier deduction might have led to the wrong conclusion; he wasn't sure now that he'd rather have taken his chances with old Natharghûl, soul sucking or not. This place was a madhouse, and a bad one at that (and he knew what he was talking about - he'd seen more than a few in his time). He'd tried conjuring a protective circle around him, but had so far only succeeded in creating a cute little ring of oddly colored mushrooms around him. The sight of them made his stomach rumble, but he controlled himself. He was hungry, sure, but he'd made it a rule never to eat anything magical. Especially not magical mushrooms, and especially not if he was the one responsible for their unnatural existence.

Daring a peek from out of under the tablecloth, the red wizard immedietly wished he hadn't. There was a dead little raccoon lying there. Or, rather, there were two pieces of a dead little raccoon lying there. He ducked back inside his "panic room", breath coming quick, and gulped down more scotch. No. Nope. Don't think so. Although... he did feel some sympathy for the poor little pupper. It was just an animal. It didn't know anything about the big, scary world out there. An innocent. Hmm... Maybe he should do something about it. Maybe he would, at that. But not before finishing his scotch.

Yes. Great plan!
He certainly knows the spell! The question is, will he remember to perform it correctly? ;)
As the party gathered at the far side of the harbormastery booths, surrounded on all sides by a moving sea of people, a man suddenly detached himself from the crowd and approached them. He was middle aged, with a weathered face and greying hair and beard, dressed in a leather arming jacked and sporting a sheathed sword on his hip. The man gave a nod and a smile in greetings, stopping before the group with a relaxed, confidens stance. He had a certain look in his eyes; sharp and intense, but not unfriendly.

"Greetings" he said in a raspy voice thick with the local dialect, "New to the Vale? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Vaskandar. I am in the business of connecting people, and getting work done. Looking at you come ashore, I got the feeling that you might be in need of connections. Maybe, I said to myself, they are looking for work, or to have some done. No?"

He raised his eyebrow, giving the group an appraising look. Before anyone had time to answer, he shrugged and spread his hands. "In any case" he continued, "Let me give you a lead. There is an establishment uptown along Prince Talaris street, near the Paupers square, called Three Tails. If you are ever looking for someone or something, go there and tell the doorman Vaskandar sent you. They will help you along your way. Now, unless I can help you with anything else, I will not take up any more of your time."

He gave a courteous bow, giving the party a few moments to respond.
@BunniesOfDoom I was thinking that perhaps the werewolf wasn't too fond of having a silver coin pressed into his hand :) or maybe I've misunderstood something?
Cool beans! I will post an update later today.
The Red Wizard

The red wizard raised his eyebrows and smiled approvingly at the barman as no less than a full bottle of the good stuff was placed before him. Oh, goodie! he chirped, reaching for the bottle with his gnarled old fingers. He stopped midway, however, as a thought struck him from afar. He was supposed to give something in return, wasn't he? Payment, yes, that was it. He quickly patted down his robes, realizing that his purse had been left behind... somewhere. No matter, conjuring gold was a simple enough spell. It was just a matter of... of...

Hmmm. What was it a matter of, again? He could feel it on the tip of his tongue, but couldn't quite taste it even so. It involved transmutation, yes, and the snapping of fingers, and... Oh, blast it! He'd have to improvise a bit. Shouldn't be a problem, though. Since when had that ever been detrimental to his spells? He couldn't recall a single time it had failed him! Mumbling a few arcane syllables, he held his hand up high and audibly snapped his fingers. A coin actually did materialize, to his beaming joy, but it wasn't gold. In fact, it looked distinctly like silver. Ah, well, it would have to do. He took the barmans hand and pressed the silver coin into it. Much obliged, old boy! he said, giving the werewolf a toothy grin, This is for you!

Having grabbed the bottle, he was just about to leave for a suitably dark corner to enjoy it in when he felt a slight tug on his sleeve. Looking down, he came face to face with a peculiar boy-thing. The boy-thing seemed to be scolding him, prattling on about some kind of ruckus on his part. The red wizard could remember no such ruckus. Listen here, young master, he said, I don't know what you're on about, but I certainly didn't hear any-

He didn't get to finish, however, as another stranger on his other side cut him off wanting to greet him. He glanced over at the man, starting to feel slightly nervous at all the sudden attention. Sudden attention was, to his experience, never a good thing. His coward-sense had started tingling. Um, well, yes, he replied to the man, hesitantly reaching forward to shake his hand while jealously guarding the bottle of scotch in his other, Pleased to meet you, I think. There are some who call me, uh, Tim. Now, if I could just-

A strange scent suddenly reached his nose, catching him off guard. He couldn't quite place it at first, but then it came to him. Smoke. Yes. Burning. But not fire, no. Rather, it had a metallic tang to it, as well as searing flesh. Perhaps there was some cooking going on? He did so enjoy a good steak! Then he heard a low growl, and his coward-sense went from a tingle to a blaring alarm.

The Red Wizard

A strange noise suddenly sounded throughout the tavern, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was subtle at first, audible only to the most perceptive of patrons, but quickly grew in intensity. It wasn't that it was loud; rather, it seemed to absorb all other sound, to the point where nothing else could be heard. It could perhaps have been described as a sucking sound, as if an ever larger choir of invisible mouths drew in air together. Just when it was about to become ridiculous - or unbearable - it ended with a singular, massive plop!

In a space previously unoccupied was now standing a decrepit old man sporting an untrimmed white beard, a ragged red robe, and a pointy (although somewhat crooked) red wizard hat. There was no gaudy effects, no puffs of smoke or flashes of light. He simply appeared from thin air from one moment to the next. If any of the patrons felt confusion or alarm at the strange mans sudden arrival, they could console themselves with the fact that he was at the very least just as confused and alarmed as them. His expression said as much, with wide watery eyes and a fish-like gawp.

Having taken a moment to blink and reaffirm that he was still in one piece, the red wizard dared take a quick look about, his head turning this way and that. This brief investigation allowed for the following deductions: one, that he was no longer in the tomb of the lich Natharghûl, which meant that; two, he was no longer in mortal danger of having his soul sucked out of his behind, which meant that; three, his spell had failed (or rather, the spell he had actually managed to cast had functioned flawlessly), which meant that; in conclusion, although he had no idea where he was, he was probably infinitely better off now than he had been just moments ago. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, his frame slumping even more as he did.

Turning around, he saw that there was a bar in the... establishment? A cheerful smile spread on his wrinkled visage. After all, a stiff drink was exactly what he needed right now. Golly! he proclaimed as he shuffled over to the counter. Greetings, barman! he continued, positively beaming at the bartender, Tell me, good sir, do perchance serve scotch in this part of, uh, reality, existence, thing?
@Triantafyllo Hey, thanks! I'll hopefully get around to posting in the morning :)
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