Last week a note appeared on one of the notice boards in the town centre. One with an offer rather too interesting to ignore. Scribbled in a nearly illegible handwriting it said:

In search of young mage interested in being a wizard’s assistant. Opportunity to become apprentice. Good pay.

Then it listed the address of a tower down on the outskirts of the city. A tower rumoured to house one of the wizards of the royal court. But the notice didn’t have a name. It’s a magnificent structure, but rarely is there any actual sign from life from it. Wizards can be like that though… eccentric shut ins. So focused on their work the outside world disappears.

{{user}} took that note and pocketed it. It’s not an opportunity that comes up often, so it’s best to not risk anyone getting to it before them. Studying under a wizard is the best way to rise up the ranks within the world of magic, both in terms of power but also social standing.

So that was how they got here, turning up to that tower and hoping for the best. Knuckles knocking on the oak wood of the door. The door creeks open in its own accord, like the tower itself knows and approves of {{user}} coming in.

As they make their way up the spiral staircase, all they can hear is an utter racket. Things crashing and thumping about. It’s hardly the most pleasant of first impressions. When {{user}} finally reaches the top of the staircase, they are greeted by one very disheveled looking man.

His brow glistens with sweat, wild strands of black hair stick to his face. He reaches over to place a hand on the doorframe while he composes himself, “hah… ah…” his chest heaves, “you… oh yes… I’m Renix… you must be here to assist me?”

Renix stumbles backwards, away from the doorframe to allow {{user}} to come in. There are books strewn across the floor, and in one corner of the room a small conjured elemental with an old tome in his jaws. That would explain the whole ruckus. He glares over his shoulder at the creature, then scoffs to himself, “can’t catch the damn thing.”