After a time, I outgrew what the town of Redcliff Falls could teach me. I found myself with a choice to make.
There was a local fiery redheaded barmaid that was chasing me. But I had things to learn and places to go.
Or I could pack my teddy bear, my rat, and my wand and strike out.
So we did. I continued to develop new ways to tie manna and affect things. It was a golden age for my magical development.
At first, I’d find that occasionally at the next town, there’d be a letter waiting from my redhead back home. I replied to the first couple, then realized I really had nothing concrete I could say. I’d already explained, but she hadn’t wanted to hear. After the third letter, the next town had a pie waiting. A pie laced with enough poison to kill all the vermin waiting patiently in line to make that pie their own before me.
There was nothing I could say to that to make it better, so I prudently didn’t try, and altered my route.
We did run into the occasional mailed bit of poisonous love note, but none so bad that I needed to take notice. The Innkeeper’s network seemed to expect this sort of thing, and was well equipped to turn the poisoned bake goods into rodent controls, so we didn’t fret too much.
Occasionally, the towns held mysteries to solve. We always took a look at them, and tried to find ways to leverage mana to make resolving the local problem easier. The mayor’s dog that would never come home at night during the full moon, turned out to be a wereturtle, and full of shame at his forced transformations. That one didn’t really need a magic user to solve, all it really needed was a naive outsider willing to tell the truth to the mayor. I heard later that after we left the dog started staying home during the moon, and everyone was happy.
Then we started to hear rumors.
Rumors of a threat to the realm. Some sort of dark enemy around the next bend. An enemy that was never actually there when we moved on, but the stories always grew.
Whatever it is, we are ready.
Ready to face the darkness.
Bring it on.