The Great Magical Mishap

Chapter 1 - A fishy story

It was a busy day at the aptly named Rowdy Inn. Sailors had taken over town for the past several weeks due to a sudden and massive increase in the flying fish population. The tavern and innkeepers couldn't be happier, Harrold wished he could say the same. His like-minded colleagues back at the tower had already started up a discovery group, hoping to find someone who could take care of the flying fish. Harrold didn't quite care enough to join them. Having fish fly in through his window every morning had become quite a nuisance, but he preferred it over working together with several major nuisances. The chance of finding a solution was also slim, to say the least. Harrold sighed. Let's hope someone shows up this time.

He pushed open the inn's door only to be hit by a cascade of shouting and the unmistakable smell of alcohol. The inn was so crowded that he couldn't even spot any tables. The only thing Harrold could actually see were the yellow and red stained walls. He wasn't quite sure which of those was the original color. If he had to make a guess, he'd go for neither. The floor, buckling under the weight, screamed in agony resulting in a loud, high pitched and frankly annoying creaking. All of it was so oppressive that Harrold almost decided on turning around and walking back home. Then, he heard a familiar voice piercing the wall of shouts.

"Harrold! There you are, I was waiting for you!"

Well, no turning back now. His old friend Pat, short for 'Patricklus the Great' as he would gladly remind you, was deftly moving through the crowd towards Harrold. If Harrold didn't know better, he would've considered it a feat of magic. Moving through this crowd required maneuverability beyond comprehension. Pat managed to avoid starting even a single bar fight. It was made all the more impressive when Pat arrived with two tankards of ale, which he clearly wasn't holding when Harrold first spotted him. Sometimes he wondered which one of them was the actual wizard. Pat handed him one of the tankards and before Harrold could speak up, his friend started coughing loudly in an attempt to catch the attention of the crowd. After a quick look around and the visible realization that this wasn't going to work, Pat instead just started shouting as loudly as humanly possible. Fight fire with fire, as they say.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please don't stare!"

This had the immediate effect of silencing the crowd and pulling all their attention towards Harrold and Pat. Harrold regretted not stopping him when he had the chance. The murmurs started instantly.

"By the Maker! Look at this one, Johnny! Isn't that a wizard?" one very observant woman said.

"He must be, he's wearing one of them pointy hats," the equally observant man next to her, probably Johnny, responded.

Pat smirked at Harrold before continuing, "Please make way for Master Wizard Harrold, Savior of the Scrolls!"

Oh, for Maker's sake. Pat bowed deeply and made a flourish with his hand for added effect. The crowd, clearly amazed, instantly opened up a path leading to a table in the back. Several people voluntarily jumped out the windows to prevent being squished.

"I hate you, Pat," Harrold muttered under his breath.

Pat stood up from his bow and nudged him with his elbow. "Oh come on grumpy," Pat said, "you know you love the attention. Now let's get to our well-deserved seats."

Every eye in the inn followed the pair's movement. Gasps of awe filled the air as they walked by. Harrold usually preferred silence, but, for a moment, he almost longed for the usual cacophony. They soon reached the table and sat down with their ale. The crowd spread out and went back to their usual business of drinking and being loud. The floor got back to screaming in agony after the short-lived respite. Harrold, taking a small lesson from Pat's theatrics, took a long sip of his ale before forcefully placing it on the table, resulting in the unfortunate side-effect of his hand getting covered in ale.