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The two lovebirds kissed tenderly under a bright full moon. Time had slowed for the two, holding each other gently, man and woman holding each other as the moon slowly set. Everything was picture perfect, even though the couple hailed from separate kingdoms that despised each other, despite their similarities. Lower and lower, the moon fell.

Though that’s when the moon literally fell, suddenly setting fire to the couple, and to the stage where they were set. The paper puppets turned to ash near instantly, their puppeteer mumbling loud curses as his stage fell to pieces, much to the delight of the crowd that had grown weary of the easily predictable love story that their host insisted was a true tale. There hadn’t been a war in two generations, between the humans, and the people agreed that a princess would never love such a selfish man, even if he was a prince.

Muttering another curse to himself as the crowd left his slowly burning theatre, Ron conjured a small spray of water to put out the flames, his brow furrowed as he glared at the wreckage of the wooden moon as it smouldered, wisps of smoke slowly rising up, and he could swear he saw faces laughing at him from within, the man angrily spraying the wrecked prop with enough water to drown a horse.

With a furious, though ultimately defeated sounding grumble, the story-teller gathered what was left of his props and jammed them into a wooden box, kicking it off-stage with a destructive thudding sound, wood splintering slightly as it hit a corner and rolled onto one side. The minor tantrum relieved Ron’s stress enough that he took up a broom and swept away the ashes, though the scorch-marks from the fire would remain on the stage as a reminder of his failure, along with the countless other minor scrapes and scratches that the floor had accrued during his performances.

That night, Ron sat in bed, alone just he had been every night since he had moved to Gothenburg, where he told himself he’d pursue his future, that he would find his calling. He slowly reclined, straining the core of his body before landing against the soft bedsheets as he stared at his roof. He lifted one hand, pointing his finger up before summoning a small shower of harmless sparkles to dance in the air for his amusement. His amusement, alone, wasn’t enough to get more than some pity money so he could eat bread for another day. That night, in bed, he considered begging on the streets like the other unfortunates. Another failed story, another failed dream.

Ron yawned heavily as he stared up at the ceiling, crossing one leg over the other, his eyes half closed. If something fun would happen, he figured, he could finally get a good story, but even now, he knew he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t have an adventure. He rolled over onto his bed, snuffing out a candle with a wave of his hand. Adventure would have to come to him, somehow, and even a mage like him wouldn’t be able to figure that out.

“Hey! Ron!” Tink.

“Ron wake up!” Another tink.

“HEY!”

A sudden crunch made the young man jump up and shake himself out, brushing the sleep away from his face. It was still dark outside, when he looked, though that’s when he noticed the spiderweb pattern on his window. He shoved open the window and hissed angrily at the vandal, unable to see how it was. “What in the six hells do you think you’re doing? You wrecked my…” his brow furrowed for a moment, and he frowned. “Oh.”

“Rooooon, hey!”

“You have got to be kidding me, Penn! You broke my window this time! Do you really think you can pay for ANOTHER?” Ron slammed his fist down onto the windowsill, narrowing his eyes. He grabbed the rock that landed on his roof and threw it back down, hitting Penn’s forehead and leaving a red mark.

“Ow! You son of a-!” Penn tossed another rock up, cutting Ron’s chin slightly. The vandal groaned a little, rubbing his head slowly as a sore spot formed. “I wasn’t tryin’ to kill you!” The lanky looking human swayed back and forth, moving his weight from the ball of one foot to the other. “Look man, I just learned that the kobolds got their stupid shanty-town nearby, yeah? I bet you could get all sorts of ideas for a GOOD story!” Penn laughed loudly, mocking Ron.

Ron looked ready to fly out the window, but he kept his cool, “Really now?” he crossed his arms, watching the other man with a disbelieving look. “Where are they, then? They move around every month, I doubt they’re really close enough to be worth visiting!” Ron knew about the kobolds, but only saw one or two in his lifetime, if there was a settlement nearby, at least he could get some supplies for new props, or a new story to tell. A people that moved so often must have had interesting stories to tell, right?

Penn snorted, “I don’t give anything for free, you know that!” he shouted up at Ron, “Now if you’ll just let me inside, I’ll work out some sorta deal, yeah?” He put on a grin that could shame a hungry coyote, his head tilting forward slightly, “You know I gotta have some money for this kinda stuff…” he rubbed his hands together, “And some time together.”

The mage sighed under his breath, before motioning with his hand, the front door unlocked and gently swung open. “Fine. Come inside. But if I find out you’re lying me, YOU are going to be my next prop!” Ron threatened. An empty threat, having a cadaver on stage would be unprofessional, to say the least.

Penn stepped inside as Ron came downstairs from his bedroom. The mage tossed a few gold coins in his hand, watching as the lanky fellow examined his home, “How’s about you tell me where the kobolds are…?” He asked, tilting his head forward, “Lotsa details, now, don’t skimp on anything.”

Half an hour later, Penn left with a heavier purse, and Ron went back to bed, a note scribbled with all the details on where he could find the kobold’s traveling settlement. One by the name of Techru.