Water had been fetched, dishes had been washed, The floor swept, and a very chilly bath had been taken by all. They were all huddled around the fire and were chewing on bread and stew. Tim had taken the bowl graciously, but tipped it out into the others instead of eating it themselves.

“I never knew how much I loved hot water until that bath.” Francis said through mouthfuls of stew.

“Could have been worse.” Tim mused. “At least we had soap.”

“Yeah well, you only scrubbed. I was in there up to my neck. Standing mind you!” Francis replied.

“I have to say Paul.” Mark looked over at the matted damp fur covered elf. “Maybe you should have gone first, towel wouldn’t have been so damp by then.”

Paul was chattering through his teeth and holding his hands up to the fire. “Couldn’t be helped. Live and learn and all that.”

The crackle of the fire and the scrape of spoon on bowl were the only sounds for a few minutes. The other patrons of the evening had been and gone already. Greta was wiping down tables and setting the chairs upside down on top.

“You boys don’ stay up too late now.” Greta chided them. “You’ve got work tomorrow.”

Mark looked over his shoulder to call back. “Won’t be too much longer ma’am. Just have to have a talk about tomorrow then we’ll take that room you’ve got set for us.”

Greta gave him a smile and made her own way to her room.

Tim nodded at Mark. “That’s a good point. What’s your plan for tomorrow?”

Mark resettled his bowl on his lap. “Way I see it. Get up and clean our room.”

Francis scoffed.

“Part of the deal, remember.” Mark glared at Francis before continuing. “Head into the forest, find those goblins. Deal with them as best we can. Head on back for payment.”

“Sounds solid to me.” Tim said. “Anyone else got some insight?”

Paul, still chattering his teeth. “They probably live in groups. So do our best to not get surrounded.”

Francis spoke up. “Would hit and run tactics work?”

Paul turned a shivering eye to Francis. “Didn’t think you were a military man.”

Francis looked insulted. “I would never! But that doesn’t mean I haven’t played a video game in my life.”

“Figured as much, but never hurts to check.” Paul rubbed his furred arms, getting a brief mist of water for his trouble.

“Speaking of military stuff.” Francis laid his spoon into the empty bowl. “What will we do about weapons? I’m not too confident in that punch I saw on the sheet.”

“The forest shall provide.” Tim perked up for a moment. “Specifically, we can probably find some good sized tree branches to function as clubs for us.”

“That’s good.” Mark had also finished his food. “Tonight's charity was enough. I somewhat doubt that anyone would be willing to lend a sword to someone who might not come back with it. There’s plenty of tools that I’ve lent out that never made it home.”

The others gave Mark a sidelong glance.

“Wrenches and ten millimetre socket heads for the most part.” Mark coughed into his fist. “Maybe a jack stand.”

Tim clacked their hands on their knees. Paused at the sound it made, then said “Welp, time to be getting to bed.” Getting up off the bench they were sharing causing it to unbend.

Mark and Francis joined Tim but Paul stayed put.

“You going to be alright Paul?” Tim asked, concern apparent on his face.

“Oh yeah, no problem.” Paul shivered. “Just going to watch the fire for a bit longer, warm up, get some thinking done.”

“OK, but don’t stay up too late.” Tim gave Paul a pat on the back. “And put the fire out fully when you head to bed. Remember, only you...”

“Yes yes... forest fires.” Paul waved them away.

The three of them made their way to the room set aside. Paul was left on his own to contemplate the fireplace.

An hour passed surprisingly quickly for Paul. The stirrings of the grand spell and dancing crackle of flame lulled him into a meditative state quickly. The murmured magic words performing a sonorous litany of “be a man.” on repeat in his mind.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Paul’s thoughts drifted from the grand spell to everything else that had happened. With what he knew about elfs, he supposed this was the closest to dreaming he would get.

Dead after losing his job and getting into a car accident. Maybe should have waited a bit longer for the rain to subside. Headed a different route home perhaps?

That goddess might have rushed us into accepting. Could we have taken a different route? Waited for more options to be available? Not sure there was anything else available besides accepting. A fantasy come true at least.

Dropped into the world, literally. Could that other guy have been saved? They were very... enthusiastic about the situation. Might have had an easier time of things if they kept their mouth shut.

A cart ride, the adventurers guild. Was I in shock the whole time? Tried my best for the situation I was in at least. Goblin thing too. Wonder what the other quest was.

The inn and chores. Those weren’t bad. Francis seems to have a firm grasp on things. Mark sounds like a stand up guy too. Tim is probably going to be worth his weight in gold with the healer thing.

And myself. What am I supposed to do now? I’ve got an idea as to what will happen, but I’ve been wrong before, probably be wrong again. I’m a Wizard for God’s sake. I should at least be able to do SOME magic.

With that thought, Paul snapped out of his own mind in time to notice the logs were ash white and the fire had been reduced to embers. He was dry and feeling refreshed but it was pitch black outside and not much brighter inside.

Paul searched around for a log to place on the fire and blew on the embers to get it going once more. As the log took flame, he gazed around at the darkened room.

“The price of mastery is to first look like a fool.” Paul mumbled the quote. “At least no one is going to see the first attempts here.”

“[Character Sheet].” Paul announced to the darkness.

Skipping to the third page. Paul looked at the four Cantrips he ‘knew’. He also ‘knew’ them from his time playing and settled on Prestidigitation for his first spell.

“OK, something small. How about a sparkler?” Paul limbered up his arms and flexed his fingers.

Paul waved his hands for a moment ending with a point and saying in a whisper so as to not wake anyone up. “[Prestidigitation].”

No sparks, no magic, nothing.

“I attack the darkness! [Prestidigitation].” Paul quietly speaks with a throwing motion.

No pungent stench of mildew, no elf suddenly appearing.

Paul stood up for this next one. Got into a low stance and held his cupped hands by his right hip. “KaaaaaMeeeeeHaaaaaaMeeeeeeeHaaaaa. [Prestidigitation].” He shout whispered while thrusting his hands forward.

Not a single energy blast.

“Wishful thinking on that last one really.” Paul felt momentary shame.

Paul continued experimenting until the log he had added to the fire burnt itself out. Another log was quickly found but Paul hesitated on adding it to the embers. One of the possible effects was lighting fires.

Paul switched from trying to make sparks to lighting the fire. “If I fail this, I’ll be cold. That might be the ticket, consequences. [Prestidigitation].” The whispered words directed at the fireplace.

The pointed finger stubbornly refused to ignite the log.

Frustration was evident on Paul’s face. Canine teeth were revealed in a snarl.

“[Prestidigitation], [Prestidigitation], [Prestidigitation].” Each word increasing in volume with a matching thrust of his pointed finger.

“Light on fire you piece of shit log! [Prestidigitation]!” the words came out at almost a shout that reverberated in the stifling darkness.

A jolt of lightning raced up from Pauls solar plexus deep within his torso to his brain. From his brain it then shot down his arm forming a ring of red runes floating around his bicep. The ring tightened to his furred skin before sliding forward to his outstretched finger where it shot off towards the log. Alighting on a rough piece of bark, the red runes spun in place for an instant and left behind a piece of burning lit flame about the size of a candle.

Paul stood there, gobsmacked. He’d just done magic.

The sting of magic hit Paul then. His right arm and finger experienced a cramp that caused him to flinch and shake out the limb. Yet he could not take his eyes off the small flame that was currently spreading on the log in front of him, the proof of his first successful spell.

“Once just happens, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.” Paul thought.

“I want sparkles to shoot up out of my palm. [Prestidigitation].” in a firm voice as Paul held his hand up in front of his face.

The lightning raced along similar pathways, but this time the rune ring was white. It flowed down his arm and around his outstretched fingers to rest in the middle of his palm. There the sparkles shot up like sparkler firework.

Paul concentrated with a squint as the sudden bright light mere inches from his eyes materialized. A growing pain started in his arm, but he held off for a few seconds until it became unbearable.

Paul clenched his fist and the sparkles stopped. What would be next? He felt giddy with the new found power.

“I need to see. So lets turn on a [Light]!” Paul pointed at the ceiling, but nothing happened.

“Oh come on!” Paul thought vindictively as he thought deeper on the [Light] spell. “It has a material component! And I’m fresh out of... fireflys or phosphorescent moss.”

Glancing around the room for a small object. Paul settled on a mug near the bar across the room. “I’ll pick that mug up and move it around the room. [Mage Hand]!”

Paul’s hand was held out in a claw shape as a blue rune ring flowed down his arm. It stopped at his wrist before rotating and a ghostly blue copy of Paul’s hand floated quickly to clutch the mug from above in the same manner as his hand.

Paul could still feel the mug as if it were in his hand. The stinging sensation was there, but muted. There was nothing but delight on his face as he flew the mug with ghostly blue hand around the room.

“What are you shouting about so early in the morn...!” Francis stumbled into the common room rubbing his eyes just in time for the mug to impact with his head.

The mug fell out of the ghostly hands grip which promptly dissipated and hit the ground with a clatter.

“The heck was that?!” Francis rubbed the bump on his forehead.

Paul didn’t say a word as he stepped towards Francis. He got down on one knee in front of the halfling. Held out his hand then said. “I can make sparks come out of my fingers. [Prestidigitation].”

The familiar white rune ring and sparks formed in front of the two of them. Delight spread across Francis’s features.

“Yer a wizard Paulie.” Francis quoted.