An Unfortunate Bit of Magic

The little man was furious.

“WHAT DU YE’ MEAN YA BLEW UP THE TEMPLE!?”

“You see, err.. the thing is…” our wizarding hero tried to explain, while ash rained down from what was left of this backwater’s previously precious establishment.

“GREATEST WIZARD O’ ALL TIME MY FAT ARSE!” spat the dwarf, whose arse was indeed quite large, and who was now redder with fiery rage than a dragon in heat, tricked into rutting a seductive boulder.

“How dare y..! ...It wasn't my fault! I thought it was a gift, you see? ..and my mind got to pondering of the potential pickles, peppers, pandan balls, or some other particular penchant of mine, hidden in that intriguing brown paper package someone just left sitting there! What I did not expect, was a highly offensive porcelain pen...pineapple! One that was, unfortunately, susceptible to.. er.. pyrokinesis..."

"A peculiarly powerful paper package?! In a poor place like this? Preposterous poppycock!" cried a villager, soot-stained and sulking.

A crowd had started to gather, some held pitchforks, and Berel.. ehem.. That is, BEREL THE MAGNIFICENT! The undisputed, greatest wizard of all time that ever lived - ever ("The GWOAT" for short) - started to think this public display might just have a tiiiiny impact on the sale of his bestselling autobiography telling of his epic quests, impossible achievements, and triumphant victories over the most terrible evils of the land. A grandiose book which, without question, featured his handsome self on the cover, riding atop his trusty steed.

“I SHUDDA KNOWN AS SOON AS I SAW YER BLASTED GOAT!”

“Well, I never! I...” Berel eyed the crowd “Is this ungrateful cretin really going to.. to to to disrespect such a beloved figure!?” He thought - out loud.

“WHAT KINDA GOBLIN-SHITE RIDES ON AN INBRED GOAT FOR A..”

Aghast, Berel protested back with an equally offendedly raised voice of his own “SIR BORIS THE WHITE IS NOT INBRED! And furthermore! He has won awards for his pedigree in no less than two county fairs and…”

“GET OUT!” Cut in the angry dwarf, pushing our hero with all his hefty might from behind, which for a dwarf meant only reaching as high as our hero’s midriff, for that is all he could reach.

“GET OUUUUUUT O’ MY TOWN YA BLUNDERING BLASTED BAFFOON BEFOR’ I SKIN YE ALIVE!”

This was all starting to become quite uncomfortable for Berel, so with a flourish of a hand and a wave of a wand, suddenly the pushing all stopped, followed by a perplexed series of curses from behind.

With a smug smile of satisfaction, Berel turned on his heel to eye the dwarf, who had been stuck in the mud – or so his minor cantrip was meant to do. In fact, the spell had instead made the dwarf soil his breaches, and this whole sordid affair altogether became far more pungent.

If Mayor Browneye the dwarf was furious before, he would certainly be so now that he was living up to his namesake from the growing wet patch in his trousers. Surely enough, he rushed to a nearby villager, wrenched their pitchfork from their hands, and very awkwardly started to waddle with speed after our hero, eyes ablaze with murderous intent.

“Time to go Boris!” called Berel, as he moved swiftly in the opposite direction of Browneye, and the now pursuing villagers. Boris looked up lazily from the patch of green grass he was chewing to watch his master run away. With a sigh and a bleat, he slowly paced over.

Hopping into the makeshift saddle, Berel the Magnificent spurred his mount into action, away from the danger of an unpleasantly pierced buttocks.

“Well! I don’t think we quite made as many sales as I would have liked,” complained Berel to Boris the goat, who responded with a disinterested “Baaaa” for his master as he galloped into the distance, the glow of the burning village illuminating their backs.

“Hmph.. My magicks are far too incredible to be wasted on the entertainment of… of SERFS! not interested in our stories anyway… Can you believe it?! How ungrateful. You give them a show, and what do we get? Chased out of town! ..How was I supposed to know their temple was so.. flammable? Eh?”

He paused for thought and bit off a piece of crunchy carrot he had pulled from his rucksack. “…Hmmm…Do you think those orphans will find another home?”