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Clifford Rolexus, heir to the Rolexus fortune and former witch hunter was beginning to wonder if his curse of song had led to this unfortunate circumstance he now found himself in. Or perhaps it was turning over a new leaf that made him wish for a time when he could have rightfully shooed away this drunken wizard who was leaning heavily against his doorstep. Well. The town’s doorstep so to speak because this was the townhall and not his palace. That would be absurd and frankly–
“Mr. Rolexus?”
“Yes Wizard? I have responded to you now thrice and you have yet to state the reason you find yourself here at my town hall and instead continue to just repeat my name in question.”
“You didn’t show up for the barbeque tonight.”
Well at least that was a new response and Clifford sighed as he grabbed hold of the wizard’s robes and dragged him inside. The cold night’s draft was not good for him, or for Jeromithory upstairs. It had nothing to do with Clifford's concern of other town folks seeing him with this drunken buffoon so late at night.
“I had important matters to attend to at the town hall and though I had hoped to make it, it was just not within the cards for me. I am a busy man after all now that I’m mayor.” Clifford led the mage, who he was more than aware could decide to turn his foul magics against him at any time, into his newly furnished kitchen and sat him squarely at the dining table.
“Stay here. Having Gale as my vice mayor means I’m well versed in handling a hangover. Though, can none of your great magics heal a simple bit of tipsyness, Vetruvius?”
Clifford began to rummage through the kitchen looking for where he knew Gale kept potions specifically designed to combat his hangovers. Thankfully, where Vetruvius’ magics seemed to fail, alchemy and science came forward to offer a cure.
“Also why have you chosen here of all places to come to in your drunken stupor? Was the BBQ not upon the hill where the Church lays? Was Royale or perhaps Kalvin not there to babysit you? Ah, here we are.” And as Clifford turned with the potion in hand he realized that he had been holding quite the one sided conversation here.
Vetruvius wasn’t asleep at least at the table, because well Clifford surely wasn’t going to drag him upstairs and had to imagine it would be a real bitch on the wizard’s back if he slept at the table for the night.
“You are quite the character Mr. Rolexus. You pretend to not know all our names….but here you are remembering everyones names with no issue”
Clifford frowned, “I don’t know what you mean”
Bread was good for these sorts of things was it not? The bakers had delivered some just that morning now that he thought of it. Potion, bread, and maybe some of the jams from Rosie’s Bakery. That seemed like a good peasant’s meal for him.
“Well I think you do! I think a lot of the people in this town know a lot more than they let on and yet we–” but as quickly as this tirade started it ended as he blinked at the tray of food and the potion that Clifford had placed before him.
“It’s not poisoned. I’d never stoop to such lows to kill a witch. Besides I’m off the clock, or retired, changed. Whichever you prefer that makes you consume this and get out of my town hall” Clifford sighed, sitting opposite him at the table before continuing, “The potion should handle your hangover where your great magics have failed you, and Gale is always eating these sorts of things and he’s constantly drunk so I suppose you would like them too.”
“That’s…quite nice of you, Mayor.”
“Sure, and after you’ve consumed all this you can take your leave. I haven’t been mayor long enough to enact many laws…but I suspect flying under the influence with your magic would be highly frowned upon. So please handle,” and Clifford generally waved his hand at the mage, “whatever all this is before returning to your tower.”
He didn’t really trust the man to use the waystones either. The last thing he needed was to hear about Vetruvius dying in the fires of hell because he’d drunkenly stumbled from the wrong waystone to his doom. Especially if anyone last saw him with Clifford it would be a pain trying to explain he really didn’t send this witch to the fiery hells this time.
For a short moment there was only silence. A rarity between them, mostly thanks to Clifford as he tended to have an endless well of onesided conversation stored within his pockets, but for now he just quietly observed as the mage ate. The hangover potion should take effect immediately, and maybe make the snacks useless, but he couldn’t be completely certain of that–Clifford Rolexus didn’t often get “drunk”. A witch hunter had to stay on his toes after all and be constantly aware for any dark evils that could lurk around a corner.
“I’m glad you didn’t attend the barbeque, Clifford.”
Clifford blinked, shocked not only by the use of his first name but also because of the sudden insult, “Ah, I see you are feeling better already Vetruvius, that you have already begun to let the usual vitriol spew from your–”
“The priest was murdered. A plot to…blow everyone up perhaps? But only those on the stage were…Father Phreid he…”
“Holy fuck Vetruvius, maybe you start with that next time” Clifford cursed, eyes widening, “Did we catch the culprit? How is Father Phreid, I suspect much like the failed attempt on my life he was patched right up by the good doctor? Of course if you were able to pull him away from that fishing pole of his in time–”
“He died. The stage gave way into a large cavern below and…”
“Oh!”
“As mayor you could have been upon that stage next to him–”
“I mean I wouldn’t have died because I–” But even Clifford couldn’t bring out his normal haughtyness as he considered that Father Phreid had truly passed. Normally the magics here kept these folks rather indestructible. Though there were ways…of course this land had true death but…
“So you came down here to report to me what had happened at the barbeque? Quite noble of you despite how drunk you were”
Vetruvius frowned, “Your potion didn’t work. I suspect this alcohol was magically altered in some way to…” he shook his head, “you seem rather uninterested in the news you could have died”
“Any of us can die at any moment! That’s the nature of the danger we face everyday! I know you rely so heavily on your magic, but we can all possibly take our final breaths at any given moment. I don’t fear death. I face it!”
“You’re a fool.”
“And you’re a drunken idiot who stumbled down here instead of returning home. We can argue if that’s what you want Vetruvius, but I still suspect you have not told me why you came here of all places instead of returning home or immediately going on some righteous tirade to find the culprit”
Clifford rose and reached for the tray to set it in the kitchen, someone could clean it up tomorrow–maybe he’d have Gale do that.
“You’re one to talk about righteous tirades…” Vetruvius shot to his feet as he did too, and wobbled dangerously sideways as he trailed off.
“Watch it!” Clifford moved in time to catch Vetruvius before he could truly fall face first into the corner of the table or the floor. It seemed the potion truly had not worked, how had he even made it down the hill like this?
“If they were going after you…I had to make sure they didn’t come here to finish you off.” Vetruvius mumbled where his head was now pressed against the arm Clifford had shot out to catch him. Alright, Clifford was just about done with drunk Vetruvius.
“Well I’m alright. Jeromithory and I are doing great. So consider your very unfounded concern on my wellbeing assuaged. I, the great Clifford Rolexus, would not be so easy to fall victim to such a plot as you very well know” Clifford stepped back, straightening his clothes as Vetruvius seemed to have found his feet again.
“Oh…well that’s good”
If Clifford had not already been only feet away he wouldn’t have been able to catch the full dead weight as the wizard passed out. Drunken fool. Some all powerful wizard bested by whatever he’d imbibed at this disastrous party. Ridiculous of him to come all this way just to check on him as well.
Absolutely ridiculous.
~ Sleeping Through the Night ~
Vetruvius II had never thought to search his father’s writings for magic and spells related to hangover cures or nausea. He wondered if his father even had written magics down for such things.
An already growing frown only deepened when he realized the obnoxiously bright room he found himself in had floor to ceiling windows on every wall. What a ridiculous design for a bedroom–
Where was he?
Echoes of explosions from the night before had him shot upright in the bed, a speed that his miserably pounding head regretted astoundingly fast.
“What..What is it? Who goes there!” Vetruvius froze, as his eyes slowly turned to catch sight of Clifford Rolexus. Ex-witch hunter. Mayor. Mumbling in his sleep next to him. He had stirred at Vetruvius moving, but not fully woken. Instead settling again into sleep as Vetruvius stared at him in growing horror? Embarrassment? Confusion?
What had happened the night prior?
The disastrous barbeque. The murder.
But when had he…?
He remembered arguing with people at the church’s doorsteps then stumbling….was this the new town hall?
Worse was this the mayor's personal quarters in the new town hall?
Why so many windows for someone who had just been almost killed by an arrow to the face not long ago?
“Halt! Foul beast!”
Vetruvius flinched, of course Clifford would be a sleeptalker. Not even sleep could silence Clifford Rolexus’s voice it seemed.
He didn’t need any of this information. There was some knowledge even he didn’t need to learn.
A quick glance around the room revealed that apparently Mr. Rolexus and him were both thankfully clothed, both in their underclothes–but not fully naked to suggest something truly irreversible had happened the night prior between them.
Slipping from the bed was easier than he expected, some witch hunter if an all powerful wizard could so easily get in and out of his bed and not so much as stir from whatever dream hunt he was on. The next outburst actually came in the form of a yelled ‘Vampyre!’ as Vetruvius pulled on his robes and bag–contents of which all remained thankfully untouched.
But Clifford didn’t stir again and Vetruvius quickly made his escape back to his tower.
Maybe there would be magic to make them both forget the night prior had happened.