Tycho
Many years ago, one of my masters impressed upon me the importance of recording one's life for posterity and the good of all magic. So of course, being me, I promptly forgot about this and went out adventuring. Well not really. Adventuring was not my first choice in life, I am, and always wanted to be a wizard, a Dean of magic in some college, perhaps not in the capital, but maybe a city of rich keep somewhere.
However, magic is expensive, and for a poor orphan boy raised on the streets of the capital it was easier to con my way into a college. Which worked fine until they found out. I won't go into the whys and hows I was expelled, suffice to say I found myself wandering Newham wood.
Tycho stumbled into town, barely paying attention to the surroundings. Instead the only thing on his mind was the horse trough that he stumbled towards and collapsed onto. He dropped his head into the water making a few of the horses hitched to the nearby post whinny in complaint. He drank until he thought his belly would explode and he collapsed back against the trough.
"Hey! No begging here. You want alms you go to the church!"
Someone was prodding him with something pointed. Tycho opened his eyes and looked up at two spearmen.
"I'm not a beggar." He said.
One of the spearmen snorted. "Oh really? What's your trade then?"
Now that was a good question. He couldn't really say wizard, not since his., ahem... expulsion. His spellbook was gone, his familiar banished and his staff broken. He had two silver pieces and a few coppers and a dagger he hadn't sharpened in weeks. Still...
"Magewright." He said with a cracking voice he hadn't used in maybe days.
The spearmen looked at each other and chuckled. "Oh a magewright are you? Well forgive me, my lord." One said with a deep mocking bow. "We didn't expect a magewright to be drinking here at the horse bar."
Tycho looked at the trough and shook his head. "I am a magewright."
"And what would a magewright be doing here in Cindertree? You think we have great arcane workings here?"
The two laughed again. Tycho took a moment look around, the town was small. It had a lightning struck blackened tree in the main square, no doubt where the name came from. He could see the walls of a keep to the north with open gates and a fair amount of mounted traffic. From the signs hanging outside the buildings of the town square he could see a tavern, a smithy and a general store.
"You're funny beggar." The talkative spearmen said and flipped him a few coppers. "For livening up a boring day. The church is inside the keep when you want to get alms."
They walked away and Tycho took the coppers from the mud and pocketed them. He knew better than to waste coppers. With an effort of will he forced himself up on aching and exhausted legs and turned towards the square. He could see people moving about their business and he walked stiffly towards the tavern.
The tavern was sombre, like every drinking establishment before midday. The only people here in the taproom were those that stayed from the night before and the serious drinkers, neither of which seemed to be big talkers. Tycho stepped in the doorway and breathed in, he sent out his arcane senses and detected more and a few magical items here, Maybe one or two hedge-wizards. He walked up to the bar.
"How much for a meal?" He asked.
The barkeeper looked at him for a moment as he wiped the bar. "Six coppers." He said simply.
"With a drink?"
"Eight Coppers."
Tycho felt torn, he didn't want to spend that much of his remaining money, but his grumbling belly had a point to make also. With a sigh he handed over the money and looked expectantly at the barkeeper. The tall, rotund man grumbled before he took the money and put a tankard of beer down in front of him and shambled off to the back to get food. When he returned, Tycho devoured the food.
"Slow down, lad." The Barkeeper said with a note of concern. "You're going to clean up if you puke on my floor."
The young wizard forced himself to slow down.
"You're out of place." The Barkeeper said. "Where are you from boy?"
"Got left behind by my caravan." He said quickly. He had been thinking about his excuse for a while. "Had to walk two days."
The Barkeeper raised an eyebrow. "Two days through Newham wood? Impressive if true."
Tycho shrugged, "I have no packs or supplies." He said. "I have no reason to lie."
The Barkeeper snorted and nodded. "So what's your name and profession, lad?"
Tycho swalled some of the bread down, it felt good in his stomach.
"Tycho." He said. "Magewright."
The Barkeeper raised another eyes. "A magewright, eh?" He said. "Sure you are."
"I would show you my qualification certificates, but I lost them in the caravan." Tycho said slightly archly.
The barkeeper smiled to himself and then gestured with his head over his right shoulder.
"That sword on the wall, I call it Goblin splitter." He said. "What do you think about it?"
Tycho looked at it for a moment. A longsword with a worn handle and a fairly standard scabbard. He raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked at the barkeeper more closely.
"It's a blessed weapon." He said. "You're a cleric?"
The Barkeeper was silent for a moment then chuckled. "Me a cleric? Pull the other one." He said. "Still, you ain't wrong about it."
He put down his cleaning rag and touched the sword fondly.
"Back in my adventuring days, I travelled with a holy priestess of Suraja. She enchanted my sword." The barkeeper looked at him closely. "I still say you're not a magewright. You're a wizard."
Tycho smiled a little proudly that he had been recognised as a wizard. "A wizard without spellbook or staff." Tycho sighed and shook his fatigued head. "How much for a room for the night?"
"One silver."
Without even a flinch he handed over one of his two silver pieces and stretched. "I need a bath too."
"I'll see to it."
Tycho stared into his beer and sighed deeply. He was nearly out of money and wasn't sure how to make more. But right now, he was lonely and tired. He needed to get some sleep and re-summon his familiar.
Tycho slept away the day, he awoke feeling less tired, but still worried deeply about his future. He put those thoughts of his mind for now and dug around his pockets until he found his piece of chalk and cleared a space on the floor so he could sketch out a rune-circle. His movements were precise and practiced. That filled him with a little hope. Despite everything, he was good at magic. At barely fifteen he had been admitted into a college, even if it was under false pretences, and excelled for the three years he had attended there. Until of course it came to paying for the fourth year...
He finished the circle and put his chalk away safely and then began the incantations and gestures he needed to cast the spell. The Rune-circle flared into life as he infused it with arcane energies. As he cast the spell, in the back of his mind he remembered his school days, as young apprentices they had been very impressed when casting spells caused the environment to change, furniture to rattle and the walls to shake. It wasn't until a year later they realised it was an amateur mistake. All those things were signs there was magic leaking from the spell.
Tycho's spell was silent, as he re-summoned his one constant companion. A dark grey, blue tailed hawk erupted out of the circle and flew around the room before it landed on the foot of the bed and surveyed the room.
*Master, what happened?*
It didn't speak out loud, but in the confines of Tycho's head. It wasn't a real hawk, not any more. Years of sharing a wizard's mind had changed it into a magical creature, and Tycho's was different still, more of a spirit of air than an actual bird.
*I've been expelled, Liera.* He replied mentally.
*Oh no! What are you going to do now?*
Tycho sighed as he sat down and absently stroked her soft feathers. *I don't know.*
Liera cocked her head to one side and looked at him. *Didn't Netu's father offer you a job?*
The young wizard shuddered. *That's true... unfortunately he lives hundreds of miles to the east, a trip I can't afford.*
The two fell silent and Tycho sighed as he rose up. "Come on." He said out loud. "Lets go downstairs."
It was early evening and the taproom was full. Tycho saw a musician playing a lute with his cap by his feet. a few silvers in his cap, he stared at the money jealously before he sat down at the bar. Liera rode on his shoulder, invisible and weightless, but Tycho knew his familiar was constantly scanning the room.
"Just the lad I was hoping to catch."
Tycho looked up and saw the barkeeper walk over and sit on the bar stool next to him. He gestured to the woman behind the bar who put down a tankard of beer in front of him. Instantly Tycho, the born and bred city boy, was suspicious.
"How'd you like to make some coin?"
Tycho glanced at the bar wenches shaking their breasts and showing a lot of leg to any who would look. There were also a group of males looking remarkably well groomed in such a remote place. Tycho raised a skeptical eyebrow, but the barkeeper was smiling widely, and not in a predatory way; at least towards Tycho.
"Doing what?"
The Barkeeper caught his look and laughed. "Nothing nefarious, lad. But I need someone with your skill set, as it were."
The Barkeeper looked around being cautious and reached over the bar and put a wrapped bundle in front of him. Tycho could feel magic emanating from the package.
"I've come into a few items of note. Some times adventurers settle their tab with their loot or the remains of their dead comrades." He shrugged. "Now usually I can spot a good deal, but this time I'm a little stumped."
Tycho opened the package and looked at the collection of items.
"How much?" The wizard asked.
"I'll give you two silver for the lot."
The younger man blinked in surprise and smiled. "You're kidding, there are six items here. Even a basic reading of magical items will run you ten silver a piece."
"Oh, aye I know that." The Barkeeper said. "But I can't charge that and pay you the same and this is my establishment."
"Okay then, fifty percent."
"I'll give you 10%."
Tycho shook his head and sighed dramatically. "Ok, But room and Board until next restday and I'll charge you 10% only for all the items until then."
The Barkeeper looked at him shrewdly for a moment before he spat on his hand and offered it to Tycho. With a slight grimace he half heartedly spat on his own hand and offered it back. The two shook and Tycho stealthily wiped his hand on his trousers.
"So six silver, it's agreed. M'name's Dain, by the way."
