A Wizard is never Late.

-Taken from the journal of Caspien Theroux, date unknown-

I stood on a hill over looking the a small town. I know not why I was lead there, but the small port town called to me. I continued down the road towards the town and ran into a farmer having trouble with his cart. I offered my assistance, but he simply cursed me and told me to mind my own business. I could not for the life of me put a finger on why he seemed frightened of me.

Drawing closer to the town I was all too aware of the fact that children were shooed into homes by their parents, under the guise of a meal of some sort, a few town guards were also following nearby. Before I reached the main gate the guards stopped me.

“Magic user. Wha are ye doon here? We don’ ned ye comin’ round causin’ rukis.” Is a rough translation to what he said. I expressed that I was a simple traveler seeking to stay in their lovely town for a couple days to regain my energy and supplies. The leader of the three eyed me up and down with a bit of a disdainful look upon his face, saying something about keeping an eye on me and then walking off. I entered the city, which turned out to be far busier than the surrounding area. There were street vendors everywhere, peddling everything from fine silks to fish heads.

I pushed my way through the crowds seeking a nearby inn, hoping that still had some rooms. They didn’t. And neither did the following six or seven. The one I did find that was still accepting guests was off a side street and down a narrow alley. I’m not really sure how I found it, but I did and I’m glad because I was tired from travelling such a long distance.


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