The Inn in the middle of nowhere

The wind roared, blowing the tree tops like a ship in the ocean. Rain hammered down upon a lone rider who rode like hell was behind him. In fact, it was large creatures with scales for arms and long claws, road armored Crags, giant creatures with two legs and small arms, and their skin was of many shades of grey and black. The Dark One's eyes were on the lone Wizard who rode his robes splaying out behind him as he rode the magical pointed Hat on his head cursed in thirty different languages that Bagsworth himself hardly knew. The only thing he could think about was how the cold water had gotten inside his trousers, wetting the back of his undergarments. His pointed boots pressed firmly in the stirrups as he guided Neverwinth down the rocky road.

"You Gether," the Hat cried. "You Huffler" the Hat continued yelling in strange languages as Bagsworth dodged a strike of lightning that had, in fact, made the tree that at this very moment was going to collapse on him and squash him like jam, which he indeed did like on a bit of bread he thought he could go for some right now. He yanked the reins to the side, narrowly dodging the log of death. It rolled, making the riders behind him pull to a halt as more lightning struck behind him. He was indeed very lucky, and there was a reason he was called the Flukester. 

"You buffoon" 

"I think I understand that one, Hatswald." 

"I hate that name," Hatswald said very unhappily. "My name is Oswald."

“No, your name is Hatswald. I stole you, so I get to name you," Bagsworth said, rubbing his smooth shaved face. "I might have to shave again; I'm starting to sprout a few whiskers. I need those magical shears again." 

"That is what you are worried about? We are being chased by Lizeal, but the Emperor is still not happy with you." 

"That's because I stole from him." 

"You steal from far too many people, Bagsworth." 

"It's not my fault he just left his magical power sitting out for me to snatch up."

There was strange chanting behind them, along with the padding of Crags. This was in a language Bagsworth could understand. They were talking about carving him up into tiny little pieces and cooking him over a fire, which he figured was a terrible idea. He was lanky, and there was hardly enough meat on his bones for a bite. 

"You reckon our friends back there will be kind enough to call a truce and say we forget about this and all laugh and go home?"

"They've been chasing you for two hundred years. I doubt they will give up on it now."

"What is with everyone wanting to chase me? I know I'm handsome; I suppose that blonde hair and green eyes are the fashion nowadays."  Bagsworth heeled Neverwinth in the flanks, which the horse did not take kindly. He darted forward like a man who lept out the window when the husband of a very wealthy noblewoman came home to find Bagsworth in bed with her, making some rather difficult moves that may or may not require some magical help. 

"It might just be because you either offend, steal from, or annoy any of those you meet. I'm rather crossed with you myself at the moment." 

"You are a hat. You don't get to be crossed." 

Bagsworth held the Hat to his head as a strong wind pushed against him, chilling him to the bone. Neverwinth turned down a path, and there was a large bridge across a canyon.

One hand was holding onto his Hat, the other on the reins, riding as fast as he could. Neverwinth's hooves clattered along the stones as fast as they could away from the Dark Chanting behind. Bagsworth spared a look behind, looking at the scally bodies with humanoid pale faces. He had seen their faces many times. It was strange; really, they had the eyes, lips, nose, and even the chin of a human but a reptilian body. Bagsworth looked at the bridge, and they were getting close now, only a few more meters. He touched the horse's pure white mane and whispered in its ear.

"Alright, you scrawny old nag, get us across that bridge, or they'll turn us into roast mutton, and by us, I mean you. You are kind of fat." 

Neverwinth snorted at him and ran faster, making him hold onto the reins for dear life magical horses were like that. The Lizeal behind him were calling out, shouting to one another they thought they had him, but once his trusty steed hooves hit the thick grainy wood, he grinned, his chest burst with power, a deep burning in his heart, he felt it flow from his fingertips to his toes with a wave of his hand a ball of light the size of an apple appeared. He grinned. "Destructo!" he shouted, throwing the orb down behind him and making the Lizeal pull hard on their reins. The Crags stood up on their legs, crying out in frustration that their game had come to an end. The bridge promptly started to collapse behind him, and his grin went away quicker than you could say. Bagsworth, you are completely and utterly doomed. 

"You just destroyed Vagar bridge that's been standing for six thousand years," Hatswald huffed. "You are starting to become quite the troublemaker."

"About me calling you fat, Neverwinth, I didn't mean it. Could you kindly keep running? I'd rather not fall down into that canyon." he looked over the side of the steadily collapsing bridge down at the rushing water and jagged waves 'I don't think I could swim in that," 

Neverwinth sniffed but did not slow his gallop; after all, the horse could not swim in that current any better than it's master could. The chanting of the Lizeal was starting to be pushed out by the hail of rain once Neverwinth crossed the bridge; Bagsworth pulled to a halt, watching as the riders across stood watching him. Before the vagabond, Wizard knew the bridge had finally done the sensible thing and finished collapsing, dying into a thousand splinters to be washed away by the current below.

"That is that I'm thinking that I am most positively hungry. I'm starving. I could eat a horse."

Neverwinth's head snapped up. 

"Not you, my friend. You are still far too lean for me to make mutton out of," the horse promptly reared up, making Bagsworth fumble for the reins and instead end up on his face on the rocky road he would, in fact,,be picking rocks out of his teeth for the rest of the night. He sat up, rubbing at his sore jaw, and frowned. 'Neverwinth," he said, holding his hands out to the side. "My friend, I was only joking. You are a noble beast indeed." Neverwinth tilted its head to the side as if that was not a good enough apology. Bagsworth was on the verge of tears as he crawled forward on his hands and knees, snot dribbling down his nose "please old friend I need you I can't waste my two remaining spells on conjuring a horse you know I only get three a day" he held his hands together sobbing. 

"He's pathetic," Hatsworth said, "but he did save us. We ought to put up with him." Neverwinth snorted but came close, licking at his master's hands. 

"Oh, thank you, Neverwinth. I always knew you were the best steed I've ever had." 

Bagsworth stood up, trying not to feel sopping wet, but that's not how being wet works. He climbed back on the horse and rubbed Neverwinth's mane. 

"Let's find somewhere dry," he rubbed his soaked sleeve on his face, looking like he had not been sobbing a mere few seconds before, then he added "and something to eat."

"That was a close one," Hatswald said as they rode. "The Lizeal almost had us if you wouldn't have destroyed that landmark. I'd say we'd be dead right now."

"I think they'd put you on their head. The Emperor would love a talking hat that mocks him." 

"I only mock you because you deserve it." 

"Besides, we got away, so you are blessed with my company."

"Yes, listening to your silly voice and jokes make me the happiest hat east of the Porcupine."

"That's good to hear," Bagsworth said with a smile, seeming genuinely pleased with himself. 

They rode for a time. The rain started to let up as Bagsworth blessed the ears of Neverwinth and Hatswald, if the Hat even had ears, with a ballad about a barmaid who slept around town. It went on for an hour since the Wizard kept adding verses that were not even in the original score. They came up to a small inn on the roadside called Ravenwood. It was a two-story oak building with red shingles and warm glowing lamps, and it was a spacious stable that made his horse neigh in excitement. There was even a slight purple glow to the buildings that Bagsworth thought had to be a trick of the light.

"Now that's a decent inn," Bagsworth said, rubbing at his face.

"In the middle of nowhere," Hatswald retorted.

"That's the best place to put one. You'll have a ton of business that way." 

"Or you'll go in and get robbed, and I'll have to watch as they stick you with the pointy ends of their knives." 

"I'd rather they didn't, but if it gets me out of this rain and into somewhere warm, I'd rather that."

There was a stable boy who looked no older than twelve sitting on a barrel, picking at his two gaped teeth with a reed. He had a cloak on a worn moth-eaten thing. The boy looked up, saw him, and jumped down off the barrel. "It'll be two gold coins to stable that horse," the boy said flatly, still, in fact, picking at his teeth.

"That's highway robbery. I might as well stand on the corner of the road and ask to be robbed." 

"It's either that or you can leave your horse out in the rain." 

Bagsworth pursed his lips and looked the boy in the eye." you see these clothes, boy? I'm a wizard, and if you get on my nerves, I'll turn you into a reed, then you won't have to keep chewing on that one."

The boy squinted at him as if he was truly taking the vagabond Wizard in for the first time and shrugged. "You're one of those wizards from that fancy academy? They're supposed to be rich. I reckon you can pay four gold coins instead." 

Bagsworth hopped down from the saddle, his pointed shoes sinking deep into the mud. 

"Listen here, I'm not paying four gold coins. You'll get one and be lucky I didn't turn you into a rat or something." 

The boy crossed his arms, letting the rain hammer down on the two who, for some reason, had decided to have a standoff in the blasted rain. "You can either pay or you can go."

Bagsworth put his hands on his hips. He was seriously considering strangling the little bastard before realizing that wasn't a very wizardly thing to do. 

"Just pay the boy for Glaza's sake," Hatswald shouted. "I'm a hat, and I'm getting soaked. Do you know how long it takes for me to dry out?" 

The boy looked up at the very much not normal Hat, and his eyes went wider than those of a boy who walked in on a beautiful woman changing. 

"That hat just talked," the boy said. "that bloody hat spoke. Maybe you are a wizard." he licked his lips nervously. Bagsworth's shoulders rose in excitement. Perhaps the fool boy would, after all, see reason. "In that case, you can pay six gold coins."

That was the final straw in the haystack for our very wet Wizard he threw himself forward, grabbed the stableboy boy by the neck, and shaking him, they both slipped and fell in the muck, rolling around and around as Hatswald said some very unfriendly words many that started with a certain syllable and ended with uck. 

"That's enough, you two," a feminine voice shouted over the rain. "Mortie, I told you to stop extorting our customers. We only get so many." 

Bagsworth spat out some mud that somehow had ended up in his mouth and even in his nose. Mortie sat back, shrugging, and grinned at him, which almost made the Wizard try to strangle him again. The woman stood above them, hands on hips, with beautiful red hair. She wore a light green cloak that, for all Bagsworth knew, could have belonged to a noblewoman. "since my little brother has caused you such trouble, I'll only charge you one gold coin and let you have a bath for free."

"That sounds indeed very lovely," Bagsworth said, fumbling at the coin pouch at his waist. He stood up, trying not to feel like he had just wrestled with a twelve-year-old boy in the mud, and placed the coin gently in the woman's hand. 

"I want you to brush and feed that horse and ensure it's dried off before you can come in." 

"But I'm the victim here. He tried to strangle me." 

"You deserved it. Didn't Pa say he would tan your hide if you did something like this again?" 

Mortie looked down at his boots. "Yeah, you aren't gonna tell him, are you?"

"Not if you take care of that horse." 

Mortie took the reins and hurriedly, like his father was already behind him with the switch, ran into the stable, taking a very eager Neverwinth out of the rain.

"Sorry about my brother; he sometimes tries to make an extra coin or two. I'll make sure he washes every pot and pan in the kitchen," she smiled at him. "My name is Maria. Let's get you inside." her eyes darted up to his Hat. "and that hat I believe I heard saying some very unmentionable words."

"Forgive me, my lady," the Hat said, seeming to have a bit of blush to his voice, "that was very unbecoming of me." 

"That's quite alright, master?" she stopped as if searching for the Hat's name.

“Hatswald” Bagsworth said 

"Oswald," the Hat said 

Maria cocked an eyebrow as Hatswald sighed. "Hatswald will do." 

“Yes, Master Hatswald.” She looked at the Wizard.

"Bagsworth at your service," he said, bowing, taking the Hat off, and giving it a slight twirl, which made the hat burp slightly, ruining his curtsy.

"It is a pleasure now. If it's the same for you, I would love to get out of this rain."

"Yes, please," Hatswald said as he was plopped back down onto the Wizard's golden locks. Maria led them down a stone path that had lanterns hanging along with thick oaken poles. They arrived at a finely crafted patio where there were a few chairs and tables they were soaked through far worse than the ones who passed by them. Once they were past the patio, they came up to a porch with rocking chairs and side tables. The door was painted a beautiful crimson, and the handle was polished gold.

"Welcome to Ravenwood," Maria said as she pulled the door open, letting the light and warmth flicker out, hitting the travel-wearied Hat and Wizard. There was a smell that made the wizard'sWizard's mouth water: the smell of roast chicken he hurried inside before remembering he was covered head to toe in mud the rain had only washed him off slightly he stopped by the door and pulled off his muddied shoes leaving them behind he took in the very much dry and warm common room of the marvelous Ravenwood inn.

The floor was swept clean; there were rugs of red and black tapestries with ravens in the windows, tables plush chairs, a flickering fire large enough to warm all two stories along, with a corner filled with bookcases it was the finest place Bagsworth had visited in the past three months. There was a large man with long, shaggy black hair wearing light leather armor. His cleft chin was poking out under a mug of ale. He could see a large greatsword with glinting red and blue jewels standing up beside him at the table. Curiously, the very large sword for the much larger man was standing in a slab of stone no bigger than two pumpkins mushed together. 

"That fellow doesn't talk much," Maria said, closing the door. "he mostly drinks ale and eats all of our chicken legs. He only told us his name is Barrick the Barbarian. " 

"Interesting looking fellow," Bagsworth said, clearing his throat, "and an interesting looking sword." 

Maria shrugged. "I don't know anything about him. All I know is he goes out and kills monsters that bother the nearby town of Helorn, then comes back here. He said he's waiting for someone he doesn't know who, but he'll know when he sees them,"

"I'll make sure to avoid him; then, I have plenty of trouble in my life right now." 

Maria nodded and led him towards the bar at the far end of the common room. There was a well-natured, round-bellied, red-haired, and bearded man who went by the name of Monty cleaning a mug with a rag. His apron was well worn and stained but did not look slightly gross; it was more of a homely kind of gross. 

"Welcome to Ravenwood. It looks like you could use a pint of ale."

"Gods, yes," Bagsworth said, clapping his hands together. "I could drink an entire keg by myself." 

"Then an entire keg you will have."  Monty placed the mug down before the Wizard, smiling. 'Morgan, grab our guest the finest keg of ale from the cellar." 

"Which vintage, thirty-four or thirty-six?" 

"Thirty-three, my dear!" the InnkeeperInnkeeper said with a smile. "Our guest looks like he could use a fine drink indeed." there was a slight huff and the sound of a latch being pulled open. 

"It won't be too long. My daughter is quite strong, you'll see." Monty smiled an easygoing smile and poured something purple into the Wizard's cup. "This should hold you until she gets back." he turned towards the counter behind him and turned a lever, making flame spring to life underneath the hanging pan. 

"You are hungry. I take it you've got that weary traveler look we've seen many times." 

Bagsworth rubbed at his stomach, suddenly feeling it rumble. It was true he was indeed hungry. His last meal had to have been at least three days back before the Lizeal had gotten on his tail. He sat on the barstool and smiled a wry grin. "I'd love something to eat, anything you could give me." He reached forward, cupping the mug in his frozen palms and sipping on the sweet grape-flavored wine that the humble Innkeep had poured for him.

"Porkchops with leeks are my special diced and served with broccoli and a thick cream to spread over and let it simmer it won't take me but a jiffy to cook up." 

Maria had started cutting up some vegetables while her father spread some butter in the pan; the smell of melting butter had made his stomach rumble before he knew it. Monty had a nice fat piece of pork cooking in the pan, letting it sear perfectly on both sides. Footsteps came from around the corner, and what he saw made his eyes go almost as big as the pan Monty was cooking from a young woman with bright red hair pulled almost too tightly in a bun was holding a keg of ale in her left arm walking almost as if it weighed nothing more more than a pillow of feathers. The fact that the girl was no bigger than a needle, wearing a bright green and gray dress with brown boots, made his mouth fall open. She came towards him and plopped the keg down onto the table; smiling at him, she rubbed at her wrists, curiously wearing two grey bracelets that were snug tightly to her wrists. Being a Wizard and all, Bagsworth could slightly see the purple glowing that surrounded it as if the items were enchanted.

"That's some curious enchantments you've got there, lass." 

Morgan looked at him and frowned. "how do you know?"

Bagsworth leaned forward. "I'm a Wizard. I have studied magic for longer than you have been alive." he took his Hat off and held it out to her, "and I have my own enchanted item." 

"Hello there, my lady," Hastwald said very politely, causing the girl to do the only sensible thing and go white as a sheet and promptly faint and fall flat on her back.

"Was it something I said?"

Maria turned around, looking at the Wizard and then at her sister lying unconscious on the floor. 

"The talking Hat scared her. I promise I did nothing to her," Bagsworth said quickly. "I did think she was quite pretty, though." 

"She does that magic frightens her whenever she sees something new or any magic at all. She falls flat out." 

"But she is carrying magical items," Hatswald said, ever obvious to point out the well obvious. 

"You know that once a magic item is bonded to you, it will never leave your grasp until you die, or is your memory failing you? You old hat" 

Hatswald grumbled something about young Wizards not having any respect these days before growing silent. 

"It took Morgan a long time to be able to use her magic without fainting it was quite the accident that caused her to be stuck with those bracelets perhaps I will tell it to you over dinner, but first, you should go and get cleaned up father takes much care with his cooking you have about fifteen minutes until the meat is properly cooked to his liking." 

"Do we just leave her here or?" Bagsworth asked, standing up. 

"She'll wake up long enough. She only stays knocked out for a few minutes. She's quite used to this by now." Maria turned back to her cutting board using the knife with quick, precise movements that Bagsworth was sure had a hint of anger in them. He decided to head down the hall before Maria thought better of carving vegetables and then decided a Wizard would be a much better choice to put in the pot. After opening many wrong doors and stepping into a room where a man was shaving his well, better not to mention, Bagsworth found the bathroom where, curiously, there was a tub larger than two troughs put together filled with steaming hot water and bubbles. It seemed Maria had run him a bath while he was talking to her father. He pulled off his clothing and sat Hatsworth on the dresser, turning him towards the wall. The Hat blessedly thanked him for not making him watch like he had many times before, saying that Bagsworth did not need a hat to tell him how to wash his back. 

Bagsworth sunk into the steaming hot water, feeling it wash away the grime and dirt of the road even some of the exhaustion was starting to leave him, almost as if the water was enchanted. He cupped some of the water in his hand, and to his eyes, he could see the glowing purple of magic it would seem there was more to Ravenwood Inn than met the eye. 

"Hatswald, it would seem there is something Magical about this Inn when we first arrived, I was sure I saw the buildings glowing but dismissed it as a trick of the light after all, we had been riding for three days, and I thought I was merely tired, but this place is completely Enchanted you were right it is strange for an Inn to be out in the middle of nowhere."

"I am, after all, always right," Hatswald said, "but the people seem rather friendly so far, but we must keep our wits about us. You know the Tower is after us after all; you stole me from the Magicians."

"You know we hate being called that we are Witches and Wizards, not some street corner Magiances that perform for crowds."

"If I recall correctly, you've done that many times to get coin when you needed it." 

"That's not the point," Bagsworth said defensively. 

"The point is they could know about you. How many Wizards with blonde hair and green eyes wearing talking hats wander the land? They could be trying to keep you here so that the Tower can send Seekers here to capture us, and we will end up back where we started in that room at the top of the Tower."

"Let's not talk about that. I'd rather not remember that night two hundred years ago. I'm almost positively certain I've blocked it out." 

Bagsworth pushed his head under the water, pointedly ignoring Hatswald as the Hat rambled on. He came back up and decided that was enough of a bath for him. There was a certain tiredness creeping up on him, and he did not like it one bit. He dried off with the towel dressed and once again put the rambling Hat back on his head.

He found that a table had been prepared for him; the scent of freshly cooked meat and vegetables wafted up to his nose, filling him with a sense of longing, something he knew he wanted. There was the keg of ale opened on the tale, a mug filled to the brim. It all made his mouth water. He hurried towards the chair and sat, not even saying a thank or or a mutter of a prayer, not that he was the praying sort. His fork stuck into the pork, and then the thick cream atop it was sweet, making his mouth enter a total state of bliss.

There was a low rumbling to his side like that of a hurricane. The Barbarian had stood up and was pulling his large sword over towards him by the pommel. Bagsworth choked on his food as he tried to swallow it and slipped backward in his chair, almost knocking it over as the legs balanced in the air. He felt forward as the Barbarian thumped him on the back, making the piece of pork that was stuck in his throat shoot out onto the table. 

"You are a Wizard?" Barrick said slowly as if he was thinking carefully about each and every word.

Bagsworth was far too busy coughing his lungs up that he was certain he saw a piece on the meat that had shot out of his very sore throat.

"You said that you were a Wizard?" the Barbarian said once more. 

"Yes, yes, I am indeed a Wizard," Bagsworth replied, gulping down his mug of ale, not tasting it in the slightest. 

"I have been waiting for someone for a long time," the big man paused almost as if thinking, "The elders said I would know who I'm waiting for when I see them."

"I must assure you I am not whomever your Elders think you need to wait for. I am just a humble Wizard passing through."

Barrick furrowed his brow almost as if he did not understand that the Wizard wanted him to go away. He was not getting that by eating more of the pork that tried to kill him. The conversation was, in fact, very much over. 

"I do not think so. There is something about you. This Inn can only be entered by those worthy enough to find it." 

Bagsworth paused a bite of leek and cream halfway to his mouth. The brute had said something almost intelligible. The Wizard poked towards the man with his fork lazily. "what do you mean?" 

"I do not know for certain, but I have been here a long time, waiting for three months, and not one person has entered besides me. I only leave to find work, but when I go outside, I find that the land is different, almost like the Inn has moved."

There was indeed something magical about this place now that he thought about it; there was always a faint purple glow to it, but whatever magic it was hiding it well. 

"A traveling Inn," Bagsworth said out loud. "Now that's quite the business to run."

"My Elders told me that I would know," the Barbarian continued on, ignoring the Wizard's wit. "I believe it to be yours. There is a scent about you, an evil but also a good." he rubbed his hand across the length of his very large sword. "this is Evil'sbane, the sword of my people. I was chosen to pull it from its stone, but it would not budge. I pulled for days and weeks until almost three weeks had come and gone. Many thought I was a fool until I pulled so hard one day. I ripped the stone apart, and they took it as my sign that I am the chosen  one who must save the world to destroy Evil."

Bagsworth decided that the quicker he finished his meal, the faster he could get away from this madman who did not destroy Evil. It was all around them. Evil men turned the entire world, and from the looks of this Chosen One, he looked like he hardly knew what Evil was. 

"Well, I wish you luck on the quest. I, for one, will not be fighting any evil. I do my best to avoid such things since they lead to you being stuck full of pointy things and being dead, which does, in fact, make you late for bedtime, which should actually be around this time in particular."

"Why the hurry?" Maria said, pulling the chair out from across from him there was her sister Morgan next to her, rubbing at her neck, her face flushed. "Did I not promise to tell you the story of why my sister is afraid of magic?" 

"A story?" the Barbarian said happily. "I'd love to hear it." before Bagsworth could say anything, Barrick had pulled two chairs over, one for him and one for Morgan. 

"There will be no stories tonight or tomorrow. I am afraid I must get some rest and be off early in the morning," he said, jumping up.

No one paid him any attention at all. They were drinking his ale with mugs, and he was not even sure how they got there; he merely sighed and sat down, trying not to think about jumping from the second-story window. He only considered doing it but decided the fall wouldn't kill him, and he would rather not unleash Evil onto the world.

"This story is a long one, I must say, so settle in and get ready for a tale. I am sure the two of you have noticed this is not a normal Inn. It glows with enchantment. It is indeed magical. It appears when travelers need us the most; not many have been traveling as of late, and there are dark rumors about, but that is not what this story is about. This is how my sister became deathly afraid of magic. Twelve years ago, before our humble Inn became what it is, we lived in a town far to the east called Woodberry, a forest filled with ravens. They sang to us, and we sang to them. It was a village of peace. Hardly anyone fought or squabbled amongst themselves. We lived in relative happiness. This was only a few weeks before Mortie was born; the four of us, Monty Morgan, me, and my mother worked in our Inn, taking in all manner of travelers from far-off lands going to distant lands far from our borders. One night, when the bards were playing a merry song, people were dancing, eating, drinking, making merry. The door was thrown open, music fell to a halt, dancing stopping mid, jig cups fell from patrons hands." She paused, looking at each one of them in turn, making the Wizard's stomach turn into knots. He always hated scary stories, and he'd much rather hear one about a scandalous woman.

"There entered a Wizard, not one like our friend across the table, one with the meanest of scowls. He had a stick in his hand of pure ivory. He thumped the floor with it, each fall of his staff echoing in the room as if it were a great cavern. He had a beard of black, the evilest eyes, and the crooked nose you could ever have seen. He swept the crowd with his gaze, and one by one, many slipped behind him and disappeared into the night until the only ones remaining were us. He came to the bar, thumping his hands on the table, and demanded food and drink. He wanted the ale to flow and the food to keep coming. We worked tirelessly, and he ordered Morgan to bring him as many Kegs as she could. She carried four of them until the fifth one she brought she dropped, cracking the side of it open like an egg. He jumped up from his seat, yelling at the top of his lungs until he grabbed her wrist, locking this bracelet around them, telling her that her weakness was in no way not an excuse to fail her patron. He thrust his staff down and cursed us, making the Inn never available to those who wanted it, only those who needed it, and he said that it could not remain in one place. He disappeared into the night, saying that one day he would return and see if we deserved to be cured. After that, the magic seeped into us, making mother sick. She gave birth to Mortie a few weeks later, dying in the process. After that, we noticed that we could control the Inn with just a sway of the hand or a mutter of a word. We moved every few days, not staying in place for long, but Father had us stay here for two weeks, saying that there was something telling him to stay here. Perhaps it is so that we could meet you, Bagsworth." 

Bagsworth took a sip of his ale. There was something familiar about the Wizard in the story: a tall man lanky with a large black beard and mustache, he had red eyes, and he was the foulest man Bagsworth had ever met. Vadamor, the Wizard who had tried to kill him, was a man who plotted with Dark creatures and made the world of men less safe each and every passing day. It was also the same man who now sat at the head of the Tower, something that Bagsworth had refused, and now Vadamor had chased him for the past two hundred years along with the Dark One and many others who thought Bagsworth had wronged them. The Barbarian seemed to be tearing up at the end of the story, something that Bagsworth never thought he would see a man almost as big as a tree sobbing over a story. The Wizard tapped his fingers on the table, feeling something completely foreign to him, seriousness something he hardly felt anymore, not since he was a student in the Tower.

"I don't know if you were meant to meet me, but that Wizard is bad news. I'd stay far away from him. You are lucky that you got away with your lives."

"That man sounds like evil," Barrick said, rubbing at a tear that had gotten on the inside of his nose. "Wizard, if you are planning to take this man down, I will gladly join you." 

Bagsworth frowned. "I'm trying to stay far away from that man. He wants my head on a levitating spike over the Tower gates."

Maria looked at him, shocked. "What did you do to get the Master of the Tower to want to kill you?" 

"He disobeyed," Hatswald said, "to save a friend." 

"Did he do it to save you?" Morgan asked 

"It is not something I wish to speak about. I would prefer that the three of you do not ask about it. The memory is painful to me. I do not wish to remember."

A heavy silence grew over them. Barrick cleared his throat and peered down into his mug. 

The women looked at each other until footsteps followed, and a man's thunderous voice spoke.

"Come on now, we have a gathering. It is not a time to be so glum," Monty said, pulling a chair up to the table. "It is a night to party. We can at least fill one table with smiling faces; you there, Wizard, I'm sure you can play a tune. You said you're two hundred years old. I doubt you've missed many taverns and songs. Why don't you sing us one?"

'Wait," the Hat shouted. "Don't get him started. He won't stop." 

That made Bagsworth grin, his sour mood disappearing. He stood up with a cheeky grin, like a little boy being caught stealing a cookie from the mouth of a monster who was also trying to steal cookies and also got caught. Bagsworth hands shot out to the side. When he started to hum a tune softly, he felt magic at his fingertips before calling out, "Bandacus mortalus." a lute of purple light appeared in his hands, flutes and drums, a viola, and violin appeared behind him, plucking quickly on the strings and tapping his socked foot on the floor he began a tune that he made up entirely on the spot. 

Oh, where, oh, where do you go for a drink when the road is long and full of feats? There is an inn in the woods, in the mountains, and the crones, far from the tough of the beaten-off roads, an inn that those who wander may wonder looking for a drink in the evening summer far from towns and villages that men may roam only to appear to those who wander come and have a drink and tap your feet make merry make fun make sick from the ale that flows I wanna see you falling right out your clothes.  Don't stop now. Drink till you can't. Drink till you can. I wanna see you wonder how the evening flows.

The Ravenwood Inn is the place to be having the most fine ale in the world to see with dancing lasses and mighty good masters. The Ravenwood Inn is a place of wonder.

So come one, come all who wander there yonder, have a drink till you can't, and dance until the wonder is yonder.

Bagsworth kept plucking at his lute, seeing Monty clap at his knees with the beat his daughters had gotten up and were dancing with one another, laughing and jumping lightly from one foot to the other; even Hatswald was humming along. Barrick was listening with a slight smile, drinking from his ale glass. Bagsworth had forgotten what it was like to play in an Inn. He had always enjoyed coming up with songs on the spot. It was not a great wonder when the sound of the door crashing open and the screaming of the girls pulled his music to a stop. 

Barrick stood up, knocking his chair over, hefting his mighty greatsword up onto his shoulder. Bagsworth's fingers froze in horror. The Lizeal had caught up with him,' the reptilian bodies slank into the room wearing scaled armor. Their faces were no different from the ones in this room other than their eyes, which were bright green. Three men and three women filled the room, hands on hips where swords and axes lay. They hardly needed them. Their hands were like claws. The woman on the left had a young boy by the back of his shirt, her claws digging into his back. It was that snot-nosed brat Mortie. His face was paler than milk, and he was whimpering.

"Mortie," Morgan cried, "please leave my brother alone."

"Silence, woman," the man shouted, talking in his strange accent, almost like a snake. 

"We are here for the Wizard. The Emperor wants him. We will give you back this child if you hand over that one," the lead Lizeal said, pointing a clawed finger straight at Bagsworth, who was trying to tiptoe away at the moment. 

"Me?" he said, looking around. "Are you sure you're not looking for another Wizard? I mean, I've been here all night."

"You are Evil?" Barrick asked in his slow, almost thinking voice. 

"I am holy; I serve the Emperor faithfully. You are the ones who are evil." 

"He means my dear Barbarian. He serves the Dark One, which means they are evil." 

"Evil," the Barbarian muttered under his breath. "Evil." 

Monty stood up slowly, holding his hands out to the side. "Please, friends, this is all a misunderstanding. We are all friends here. Why not sit and have a drink? Not many are able to come into our walls. I would love to cook you a meal and give you the finest ale you must be weary after your travels."

"We do not grow weary. The strength of his holiness protects us and keeps us strong." the Lizeal looked Monty in the eye. "we are no friends of pink flesh; hand over the wizard, or the boy dies." 

"Evil," Barrick muttered again. "I must destroy EVIL," he roared, making everyone, including Bagsowrth, jump. There was no way he was getting out of this without a fight or dying. He held the lute in his hands, the flutes and violas and violas still twanging softly in the background. He only had one spell left for today. It was bad to be caught with hardly any choice.

"Listen," Bagsworth said, walking towards them. "If you let the boy go safely back to his sister, I will come with you, but if you don't, I am sorry to inform you my foot will not move an inch from this table, not in the slightest." 

"You will come now, or he dies." 

Bagsworth shook his head, slowly moving the instruments behind them.

"Look, I've been running for three days. We are both tired of games. Let the boy go, and I will come willingly and give the Emperor back the power I have taken." 

The lead Lizeal narrowed his eyes. "if you give me your word, we will let him go."

"You have my word," the Wizard said, simply not in the slightest thinking about keeping it, but he'd rather have his life. 

"Visara, let the boy go," she did, so Mortie whimpered, running straight towards his sisters, practically diving into their arms. 

"Now you come here." 

Bagsworth did so slowly, holding the lute in his hands. He got close and smiled, looking into the face of Lead Lizeal, who was smirking. 

"You will pay for your crimes, pink flesh. The Emperor will be smiling down upon me."  

"Barrick, I have decided to take you up on your offer to destroy evil." with that, Bagsworth held onto the neck of the lute and crunched the magic straight into the Lizeals teeth. The other instruments shot out behind them, smashing into the enemy, causing chaos to ensue. Bagsworth stumbled back as the lead Lizeal swiped out with his claws, causing the Wizard to fall back onto his arse. He crawled away; Barrick shouted and leaped over him, bringing sword and stone down onto the enraged Lizeals head, making it crack open like a watermelon. He shouted about destroying Evil as the other four tried to regain their composure, getting hit by magical instruments, which most definitely did not feel good. One circled the Barbaian, coming straight for him. Bagsworth cried out, stumbled to his feet, and did the only sensible thing: ran straight towards the women. Maria held onto her brother, covering his head. Morgan looked at the Wizard, who was running his arms out in a panic, and shouted for him to drop low. He did so, slipping on his socks and onto his back, making his head ring. He saw her fist fly out, catching the Lizeal in the jaw and breaking it. Causing the beast to fall on top of him, snarling, he found himself once again rolling on the ground, wrestling something that was much larger than him instead of smaller. Hatswald said something in a language that Bagsworth thought might have been a very bad curse word. They thumped into the table, and Bagsworth shoved the Lizeal's head up, smashing it repeatedly against the bottom of the table until it went limp. With much panic and very little grace, he looked over, watching as Barrick smashed his sword hammer into the gut of the female Lizeal, knocking the air from her. The other two were watching wide-eyed, their faces no longer looking so proud. They looked like someone had slapped them and taken away their favorite toy.

The one nearest to the door cried out to their god and for their Emperor to save them as they ran out into the night. The last one, a male with a curved, wicked-looking axe, ran its tongue along its lips.

"I have failed my Emperor." he threw the axe down onto the ground. "My life is now forfeit." he knelt as Barrick loomed over him, bloodied greatsword in hand. The Lizeal looked at the Barbarian; all fight drained from his eyes. He lowered his head, waiting for the killing blow.

"You are evil," Barrick said, simply raising his greatsword. "You will be destroyed."

'Wait," Hatswald shouted, startling Bagsworth. "Let him go. We are not murderers; besides, he can take a message back to his Emperor."

Bagsworth's eyebrow raised a smidge up. "you want me to let this reptilian live after they've chased me up and down the Veerwood and down the porcupine road for three days?'

"Yes, perhaps if they remember you are merciful, they will perhaps spare you in the future."

Bagsworth looked at everyone in the Inn. Morgan and Maria were holding onto their brother, sobbing. Monty looked up at him under his great beard.

"If I may," the Innkeeper said, holding his hands out, "I would say you have won, and I, for one, would like to keep any more bloodshed from my halls. Take the other of your numbers from my table and leave. Do not come back, or I will not be so forgiving you after all broke into my Inn and threatened my patrons. It is bad for business."

Bagsworth strode towards the Barbarian, who was still looking like he was about to smash an egg with a hammer.

Bagsworth put his hands on his hips, looking the Lizeal in the face. "You will tell your Emperor that I am not one to be trifled with. He can keep throwing a temper tantrum all he likes. His orb of power is never going to return to him. It is now my power. I am the strongest Wizard to have walked the face of Orio. He will have to be content with sulking in his castle and fighting the clans of Lizeal without his power; the realm of men will continue to remain safe for as long as I, Bagsworth, V Trufflestuck draw breath which will indeed be a very, very long time since I am immortal" he bowed humbled and pointed towards the woman he knocked out under the table "take that with you as well and leave".

He turned towards Barrick. "If they have not left by the count of ten, please bash their skulls in."

The Lizeal curled his lip, clearly not happy with the treatment he was given, and the words said about his most holy, "You will die a torturous death in the dungeons of Mordah Wizard scum." 

"Do you hear something, Hatswald?"

"Nothing. I believe we are at number one now, two, perhaps even three." 

The Lizeal stood up warily, moving towards his wounded Barrickw, watching his every move as Hatswald and Bagsworth were now singing four five six. 

The Lizeal grabbed the knocked-out one from under the table and was moving as fast as possible. 

"Eight-nine," the Hat and its master said as the Lizeal hurried out the door. "ten!" they shouted after them. Bagsworth hurried to the door, looking out into the storming night. The only thing left behind were the inhumane bootprints that had four toes. Bagsworth noticed his own pointy boots by the door and decided to pull them back on.

"I think it would be best to move the Inn, Monty," he said, making sure his shoe was snuggly on in case he was also about to be forced to run out into the night.

"There's only one problem: the Inn needs to be fully repaired before I can move it, and the door will take at least three hours to mend." 

"The Lizeal could gather reinforcements in that time," Hatswald said hurriedly. "We need to leave now, Bagsworth. Fix the bloody vasana door." 

"You really ought to stop making up curse words before I wring you out." Bagsworth tapped his foot on the floor, looking at the shattered door. The hinges could be fixed, and the door was picked up and put right back into place. It would be nothing more than a wave of the hand for him, but if he were attacked again, he would not have his magic. He would have to wait until the morning to have his three magic choices. 

"If I fix this door, you can move us somewhere else?" 

"Yes, I swear it. You kept us safe; we'll do right by you." 

"Very well," Bagsworth moved back towards the table. "Barrick, I would step back for this. I'd rather the door not knock you out." The Barbarian did as he asked, watching intently and gripping his sword hammer almost as if he were thinking that the Wizard was going to commit Evil. 

"I hope I don't regret this," Bagsworth muttered under his breath. He thrust his hands forward and shouted a simple command, "Repairo." the door darted up into the air almost as if a giant ghostly hand had come down and snatched it up, the splinters and bent hinges pulled back into place with a flourish a slight spin and before everyone in the room knew it the door was back into place. There was a slight chill on the Wizard'sheart, almost as if a dark force was clutching it, wrapping its fingers around him, daring him to try and conjure another trick waiting to bring his life to a swift and painful end. Bagsworth flopped down to the floor, using all the strength he had not to panic. Despair always set in once his magic was spent. "Now," he said, wheezing, "can we move? I do not want those Lizeal to come back with their friends." 

"Of course," Monty said, clapping his hands. "Our next destination will be Oarkorth, the village of lords and ladies." the Inn shone with a brilliant purple light it was so bright Bagsworth and Barrick had to cover their eyes the room spun it felt like the very building itself was doing a somersault then rolled down a hill flopping and crashing into every root rock and tree on the way down then it grew still silent like a graveyard and almost as cold as one. 

"Did we do it?" Bagsworth said, keeping his eyes closed he felt at his body, hoping that he had not also shifted and done a somersault he was, after all, not very flexible.

Monty walked across the room and towards the door, pulling it open, and breathed in the fresh air. Bagsworth opened his eyes and saw that the Inn had indeed moved. It was no longer storming. It was still dark out, but they were no longer in the low mountain lands. It was green rolling grass fields with trees and vibrant flowers and, most thankfully, not a drop of water or a speck of mud, and by far the best news Bagsworth had gotten there was not a peep of a Lizard looking for him. 

"I believe some apologies are in order," Hatswald said, sounding as if he was casting some very unbecoming judgment of the man who was wearing him. 

Bagsworth cleared his throat and spread his hands out to the side. "I am very sorry I did fail to mention the grunts of the Dark Ones were chasing me. I really did not expect the Lizards to burst through your Inn's front door."

Monty placed a hand on his shoulder "I don't think you meant to bring those Lizeal to my humble place of business. We appeared to you, not the other way around. There is nothing to apologize for," he cleared his throat, "but some coin would be helpful after all you did put my son in danger along with the rest of my family" Monty's hand was rapidly squeezing the wizards shoulder as if he was squeezing the juice from a lemon. 

"How much would you like?" Bagsworth squeaked as Monty held out his hand. "Right you are," Bgasworth said as he placed his entire bag of coinage into the innkeeper's beefy hand. 

"Those bloody Lizards almost killed me," the boy cried, rubbing at his eyes. "They told me that the horse I had belonged to a Wizard and that they'd kill me for helping him."

Maria rubbed at the back of the boy's head, shushing him, trying to soothe away the fear. 

Bagsworth felt a bit of shame he had put these people in danger he was so relieved to have a dry place to sleep that he forgot the burden he carried he lowered his head and walked over to the boy before kneeling next to him. 

"I'm sorry about that, Mortie. I didn't know they would find me. I had blown up a bridge keeping them across the canyon, but I suppose that won't stop the ones chasing me."

"You blew up a bridge?" Barrick asked, turning his head slowly. 

"Only to protect myself. I promise I am not evil," the Wizard said hurriedly. 

"I hate Wizards," Mortie said simply. "We should have handed you over to them." 

Bagsworth once again decided he was going to strangle that little boy, but his sister thumped him on the head. 

"You do not talk like that to the man who saved you. He may be a Wizard, but it doesn't look like all of them are bad." Morgan let out a deep breath. "Forgive my foolish brother. We are grateful for your help."

"There is nothing to forgive. I believe it will be best for all of us to let this stay in the past. It is done and over with now."

"What will we do now?" Hatswald asked. 

"We get some sleep, and in the morning, I believe it would be best for you two to get on the road, and my daughters will get back to doing what we do best and save those who need us."

Bagsworth looked at the Barbarian. "do you still want to come with me?"

"Will I get to fight more creatures like those lizard men?" 

"Yes, I run into many monsters in my travel. I will not turn away help that I can cower behind." 

"Very well, I will meet you here bright and early." Barrick hurried towards the room, leaving the stuttering Wizard holding his finger up and the words holding on for a minute. I do not like getting up early stuck in his throat.

"Follow me, Bagsworth. I will show you to your room." Morgan tugged on his sleeve, leading him down the hall and towards the back rooms. 

Bagsworth could not recall a time when he had been led to a room by a beautiful woman. It had been many years, and a part of him was starting to get his hopes up when Morgan turned on her heel and put her hands behind her. 

"This is your room. May you sleep well." she walked past him, smashing his hope of company into a million pieces before she stopped and smiled at him. "You know you aren't all that bad for a Wizard. You are far too rambunctious. And a little annoying, but there's some bravery in you." she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "thank you for showing me not all magic is to be frightened off, and thank you for saving Mortie." she left him holding onto his cheek with a feeling of awe a woman had willingly kissed him it was on the cheek, but it was a kiss. 

"Don't go head over heels in love with her. She can break you with a finger." 

"That's what I look for in a woman." 

"You look for anything that walks on to legs and has a pair of breasts." 

"Not true at all," Bagsworth said, turning towards the door and smacking his face right into the glowing purple wood. 

"That's what you get for lying." 

Bagsworth pulled open the door and rubbed at his nose, grumbling. The room was nice and quaint. There was an actual bed with light brown sheets and matching pillows. He threw off his boots and tossed the Hat, which cursed at him, onto the corner table and lept into the bed. It was soft as a feather. He snuggled into the blankets and found that he was rather comfortable. After some time of lying in the dark and tossing and turning, he heard the Hat begin to speak. 

"Bagsworth, are you awake?"

"I am," the Wizard said, laying on his back and resting his hands on his stomach. 

"What you did today saving that boy, actually putting yourself into danger for a change, it makes me proud of you." 

"Really?" he said, shooting up from the bed and looking at his companion in the corner. "proud of silly old me?"

"Yes, in a way, I know you are not a coward you try to be, but I know you. The thing is, you've forgotten who you are. We've been alive for all these years. The man you were when you saved me has disappeared. There are still peeks of him in there." 

"A silly fool like myself has the approval of the Grand Arch Master of the tower." 

"Ex Arch Master, I believe the title was yours."

'For all the time of a short three minutes." 

"And what a fine job you did causing chaos and civil war." 

"Yes, that was indeed a night that we will someday talk about, but it is not tonight." 

Bagsworth laid back down, looking up at the ceiling, watching the faint glowing of purple light before he licked his lips. "Good night, Oswald. I'm mighty glad you are with me." 

"Oswald?" the Hat said, shaken. "Where's the danger? Where is the true Bagsworth?" the Hat chuckled. "That name doesn't belong to me anymore. Hatswald is who I am now, and it starting to grow on me. I just like to complain. It gives me something to do. After all, I am stuck wherever you put me." The Hat grew quiet, then spoke, "Good night, old friend." 

With those words, the Wizard drifted off into sleep dreams about naked women, a dragon, and a very unlikely hero, dreams he hardly remembered once the sun rose and the sound of a mighty fist beating on his door. 

"Wake up, wizard," Barrick shouted. "We've got evil to destroy." 

Bagsworth woke with a groan and rubbed at his head. The dreams of fair maidens with their bouncing bussoms were gone, and he was now back to a very disappointed reality. The Barbarian did not stop pounding on the door as the Wizard dressed, not even as he went to reach for the handle. He pulled it open and got a knock on the nose. 

"Ah, you are awake". 

"I am now Bagsworth shouted, holding his abused face.

"It is only a tap on the nose," Barrick said, grabbing the Wizard across the waist and hoisting him across his shoulders. "We have a big day ahead of us, and there are many evils to destroy. We must get a move on." 

Bagsworth did not fail to notice Morgan and Mortie laughing as they entered the common room. Monty continued eating a piece of bacon, and Maria smiled warmly at him. They all sat at the table where a nice breakfast was laid out: freshly poached eggs with crispy bacon, a loaf of bread toasted and cut into slices. He was thrown into his chair the table rattled as he and the Barbarian fell into their seats. He picked up his fork and found himself scarfing down the food as if it were the last meal he was ever going to get with the new companion he had gained. He figured he would be dead by noon, and while he ate his third slice of bread with honey and butter, he saw Monty looking at him out the corner of his eye.

"I have something to give you." 

"What?' he said, thumping his chest with a fist as bread got stuck into his throat. 

Monty reached into his pocket and tossed him a silver ring, which clattered onto his plate.

"What is this?"

"A ring, something I do not have many of. This my wedding ring was given to me by my wife, but I am giving it to you. When you wear this, we will be able to find you no matter where you are, and you will always have a place to sleep while you have this." 

Bagswort dropped the fork and his toast and held onto the ring, turning it over into the light. It was a pretty little thing of sparking silver. He slipped it on his finger and found that it was about eight sizes too large for him. 

'I did say wear it when you need our help". 

"Thank you. I will make sure not to pawn this off at the nearest Inn."

"I will make sure he doesn't thank you, Master Monty," Hatsworth said graciously. 

"You better come back and visit us, wizard," Morgan said, smiling very sweetly. 

"You better. We haven't had this much fun in years," her older sister added. 

"I'd be much happier if I never saw your ugly mug ever again," the snot-nosed brat said. 

Sitting there looking at the ring and then at the two women, he vowed he would come back not to see the girls but to make that snot-nosed brat cry. 

He looked at the Barbrian next and hoped he would not regret letting him join him. He, after all, had already thought about how he was going to lose him in the wilds. 

He picked his fork back up and continued eating. "You know, I wasn't expecting to meet such gracious people in an Inn in the middle of nowhere."