The land of Ransol has always been known for its pleasant sunny weather. People come from all over the land to enjoy the sun and socialize. Not to mention how well the flowers grew in the warmth of its comforting rays. Even the townspeople of Ransol seemed to have a sunny disposition. They were the kind of folk who still called to strangers with a cheery “Good day!" when passing by each other in the market square.

            So it was quite the surprise when Ingersyn rode into the main town and found that everyone was abjectly miserable. He couldn't blame them though. The sky was overcast and it looked as though at any moment the sky would open up and pour rain on them. He pulled his wagon up to the market square and tried asking around about the weather. This turned out to be a particularly bad idea. It seemed as though the people of Ransol were not used to seeing dragonborn in their area. And even then, he looked a lot closer to a crocodile skink then a dragon, not that they'd know the particular difference. After a couple of shrieks about a “monster", he figured out that they were talking about him. It wasn't a complete loss though. The butcher didn't run away at his approach and, in an attempt to court that famous Ransol spirit he heard so much about, he called out to him.

            “Good day to you Butcher!"

            “Well met beast. What can I do for you?"

            “What happened here? I thought Ransol was supposed to be a sunny paradise."

            “Well it used to be. But then the weather shifted suddenly a few weeks back. It's been raining ever since. And if your crops were dying from too much rain and you were cold and wet all the time, you'd be grumpy too."

He brought his meat cleaver down to emphasize his point and then continued.

“If I were you, I'd turn back around. Until the weather clears up there's not a lot of money to be made here."

“But it's not raining now. Maybe the weather is finally breaking."

“You managed to get in during a blessed reprieve."

            “Must just be my lucky day, I suppose."

The butcher looked up from the shank of meat he was cutting and laughed.

            “Oh, I don't know about that. Looks like it's back already."

            Ingersyn turned around and looked at the sky becoming black as pitch. From seemingly everywhere the rain dumped out of the sky. He tried in vain to hold his hands above his head and shield out the deluge of water. By the time he turned back around to the butcher his clothes were soaked to the scales and he had to shout to be able to talk to him.

“Any idea what's causing this?"

“What?"

“I said, any idea what's causing this?"

“Oh yeah! Everyone's pretty sure that it's the work of that evil wizard in the tower next to the Granfell mountains."

“Why would he make it rain all the time though? That doesn't seem like a very good evil wizard scheme."

The butcher shrugged and then said, “Maybe he's just an asshole?"

Much as Ingersyn wanted to keep talking, he was starting to get very cold standing in one spot while getting soaked. He said goodbye to the butcher and went to retrieve his wagon. Maybe he could find a dry inn to hold up in until the next break in the storm.

            The next break in the storm never really came. Ingersyn was hopeful for the first day, but by the third day of straight rain it was getting harder to hold out hope. Once the sixth day had rolled around and he woke up to even louder rain outside the inn, he knew something had to be done. As he was sitting down to breakfast at the inn's bar, he noticed something new posted on the job board. It was a large posting and had simply said in bold colorful letters:

KILL THE WIZARD

Now Ingersyn wasn't usually the kind to take on mercenary work. He liked to try and support himself using his craft. But selling summer clothes to a town that's constantly raining hasn't been the influx of gold he was hoping for. He took the posting down from the job board and walked over to the bar to ask the bartender for more info. 

            “Excuse me, barkeep?"

The bartender was an older woman who had grey hair and a not insignificant amount of facial scars. She was built as sturdy as the tavern with arms the size of the stools at the bar. She looked at Ingersyn with a grimace and set down a huge mug of ale forcefully on the counter.

            “Well hi sugar! What can I do for ya?", she said in the cheeriest voice Ingersyn had ever heard.

            “I'm looking to take on this job. Is there anything I should know about this wizard?"

            “Well I don't like to spread rumors, it's not ladylike ya know, but I heard that his whole tower is booby trapped. No one's come to claim the quest on account of them being too chicken to climb that horrid structure."

“Why haven't you gone after him yet? You seem very...capable."

“The situation is bad, that's fer damn sure. But it's not affecting my business too much. Folks drink whether they're happy or sad, so I'm still getting a decent living."

            “Do I have to kill the wizard to collect the reward?"

            “Well hun, I'm not sure how you'd make the rain stop otherwise, but it's your giblets on the line."

            “Thank you, Miss?"

            “Oh, call me Gladiola! I'll let the town know you've taken the job and we'll keep an eye out for your return."

            “Thanks, I guess I'd better get going then."

            Ingersyn turned to walk out of the tavern but Gladiola called after him.

            “Wait! Take my lucky wizard killin' axe. It'll come in handy I'm sure."

            She reached underneath the bar and produced a shimmering silver axe that was comically oversized. Before he could process how big it truly was though, Gladiola had effortlessly tossed it one handed over to him. With a grunt, and the feeling that some of the bones in his arm may have rearranged themselves, he managed to catch it before falling over.

“I'll treasure it fondly, thank you" , he said from the much more comfortable floor. 

            It was mid-morning when he had packed up his cart for the trip. The townspeople seemed to be excited that he had taken on the quest. Or rather, at least as excited as they could in the pouring rain. There were even a couple that came up to him and gave him small trinkets to help him out. It wasn't much more than some good luck charms but the sentiment was nice. Unfortunately, he'd overheard a few of the grumpier people hoping that he and the wizard would take each other out. He tried not to listen to them as he grabbed the reins of his horse and set off towards the trail to the tower.

            The ride was tranquil at first. Ingersyn had ridden this trail to the foot of the Granfell mountains before and so he knew where to direct his horse. The rain was more so a nuisance at first. He kept his cart covered with a tarp and tried his best to keep the rain out of his eyes. By mid-afternoon the rain had started to get more intense. The closer that he got to the tower itself, the harder it rained. He grit his teeth and pushed through the storm as the winds picked up. The horse started to become agitated. He reached out and brushed down it's sopping wet mane with his hand to steady it.

“Easy girl, we're almost there. I can see the silhouette of the mountains now."

            The calming voice was as much for Ingersyn as it was for the horse. He had expected the wizard to be strong, but this storm was like nothing he'd seen before. And if Ransol was just getting the fringe of the spell then the tower would be a mess.

            It was an hour later as he first caught sight of it. The tower was a large stone spire that seemed to be built into the base of the mountains. There were a few windows in the top of the tower and through occasional flashes of lightning, he could see shadows moving around. Though it was only mid-afternoon, he could barely see an inch in front of his face. The storm had indeed gotten much worse, and it was all he could do to keep his horse from breaking into a sprint whenever lightning streaked across the sky. Thankfully, with all the rain in this area, the trail had turned into more of a muddy creek. So that kept them moving at a slow and controlled pace.

            Ingersyn wondered how he was going to get into the tower in the first place. There didn't seem to be any obvious entrance to the structure. Walking around the back of the tower, he found that there weren't any seams, loose stones, or oddly colored patches that could give away an entrance. He supposed that if the wizard really felt like it, he could just fly up to the windows and get in that way. That seemed terribly inconvenient though. He heard the horse whinny in fear around the corner and came running to find quite the curious sight.

            The horse was fine, thankfully, but some creatures were patiently waiting outside of the tower. They looked to be some kind of lesser fey spirits. In each of their arms they held ingredients for something. Spell components, he supposed. He was worried that they would attack him but as he walked back over to his wagon, they didn't break eye contact with the front of the tower. A few in the front of the group mouthed something he couldn't hear and the bottom of the tower shifted.

            It was subtle at first, a waving texture of brick that broke from the tower and slowly began to lower down. As the tower opened itself up the bricks reformed and shaped themselves into wood and supports. By the time that Ingersyn had led his horse out of the muddy creek and onto the dry stone a full drawbridge had opened up before them. The spirits, content with their handiwork, began to rush inside the dry tower. They were much faster than he anticipated and he found that they were inside before he was halfway across the bridge. The last spirit to cross over turned around and took a look at him. Shook its head dismissively and snapped its fingers once.

            The next thing Ingersyn knew the bridge was changing again and the wood he was riding on began to shift back into brick. Each plank of wood shifted into a brick and started to fly past him and block the entrance again. He gripped the reins and kicked his horse in the side to speed up. It would be tight timing, but he might be able to charge into the entrance. The bricks were flying past his head faster now, the wagon close to the edge. He just had to get a little bit closer.

            The spirit looked puzzled as Ingersyn let go of the reins and leaned his arms back to grab something under the tarp of the wagon. Its eyes went wide as he pulled out what it was though. The dragonborn was hefting up a massive axe with runes carved into the side. Before the spirit could cast again, the axe was tossed over into the corner of the drawbridge and tower. It sunk into the combination of wood and stone with a *THUNK*. He grabbed up the reins and kept charging forward, ducking his head down so that he could clear the smaller entrance.

            The bridge was stable again and the bricks had frozen in mid-flight back to the entrance. The axe hummed in the corner, with a dull blue glow coming from the runes. The spirit seemed confused that it's snapping wasn't doing anything. It growled in frustration as it looked up. And that's when it got a face full of horse at galloping speed.

            Ingersyn felt the world tumble over itself as he spun out inside the castle. The wagon had caught on the lip of the entrance and with the built-up momentum, everything had gone flying. He picked himself off the fancy rug that he was fortunate to land on and tried to look around. An unconscious fey spirit lay a few feet away, but he figured it would be better not to disturb it.

His horse was spooked but otherwise looked to be fine. The wagon had made it inside but the wheels had popped off. The contents were spilt all over the floor. He walked over to the supplies and grabbed his sword and the one piece of clothing that didn't look to be torn to shreds in the chaos.

He had expected some kind of resistance as he started to climb the tower but there was a surprising lack of traps. Each floor opened up into a large room and each room seemed to have their own purpose. At the bottom of the tower was a room piled high with spell components. A bit further up was a room filled with old books, guarded by a massive owl who looked like he was a few feathers short of a full plumage. Ingersyn walked up to the owl to try and get some info on where the wizard might be.

“Hail and well met dear owl! Where might your master be?"

The owl cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes before replying.

“WHO?"

“Um, the wizard in charge of this tower. I have a message to give him from the townspeople of Ransol and it's quite urgent."

The owl preened his feathers with his beak for a moment. He looked to be thinking about something. He cocked his head to the other side and flapped his wings a few times before asking again.

“WHO?"

“My apologies, dear bird. I thought you might be able to talk."

As Ingersyn left the room he heard a deep voice call after him.

“He's up at the top of the tower, dummy. Where else did you think he'd be?"

He ran back into the library but the owl was just preening his feathers again. Looking around erratically at nothing in particular. Feeling a little concerned, Ingersyn took the next couple of floors two steps at a time.

The next floor of interest was a menagerie of magical animals. He didn't believe the variety that was on display either. He could count at least one unicorn, two binicorns, and four trinicorns. There was even a platypus in a tank of water towards the back. The one animal that wasn't in some kind of holding was a beautiful red and orange bird perched on a branch near the entrance. He made his way into the room, curious to get a better look at the bird. That turned out to be a mistake. The bird fluffed up its feathers and set itself on fire. The bird had begun to charge at him before he could properly process that it was a phoenix. It was too late though; he had pulled out his sword and held it up in front of his face on instinct. The bird tried to slow down, but ended up sliding through the blade and parting itself into two jets of flame to either side of the dragonborn's face. A few floors down were two piles of ash that at one time had been a phoenix. Ingersyn let out a breath and wiped his forehead. That was close. The sword had done a good job of killing it, but the heat had melted it down into a very lopsided dagger. It wasn't going to be any good in a fight in this state. So much for having a plan B.

On the last floor before the top of the tower, Ingersyn came across one last obstacle. The door to the wizard's study was guarded by a singular skeleton. They had a large halberd and looked to be patrolling the perimeter of the room. The bones walked and moved on their own and as soon as he was spotted the creature spoke.

“I-i-f y-y-y-ooo-uu w-w-wan-t-t t-t-t-o seeeee t-t-the w-w-w-iza-r-rd, y-y-y-oo-uu g-g-g-otta g-g-go t-t-through m-m-me."

The skeleton chattered incessantly as it spoke. They looked like they were in some kind of discomfort. But that could just be how being a skeleton was. Maybe the experience of being undead wasn't comfortable. Just in case, Ingersyn reached into his pack and pulled out the one piece of clothing that he could salvage. A cozy wool sweater.

“Excuse me, skeleton, but are you perhaps cold?"

The skeleton's eye lights grew brighter and he nodded slowly, still chattering.

“Well if you let me go past, I'll give you this sweater. What do you say?"

The skeleton didn't even hesitate. They dropped their halberd and rattled over to the dragonborn. He made sure that the sweater could go over their skull head and after a surprising hug, they walked past and down the tower steps.

Ingersyn shrugged and went over to the door to the wizard's study. It was a simple wooden door and when he pulled on the handle, he was pleased to find it swung open. He was less pleased to see a large ball of flame hurtling toward him very fast from the inside of the room. A trinket on his belt glinted as he just managed to roll out of the way of the pursuing fireball. It was close enough to singe the tip of his tail, but thankfully not much else.

He got up, dusted himself off, and went to peer around the corner of the door. This time trying to be a little stealthier about it. When he was convinced that another ball of flame wasn't going to be shot at him, he walked tentatively inside.

“Are you here Wizard? I've come to deliver a message from the people of Ransol. Show yourself."

“Now sonny, there's no need to be so confrontational. I'm right here."

Ingersyn could see a wizard in red and white robes walk towards him, palms upturned.  There was still smoke coming off his right hand, presumably from casting the fireball. He was old but managed to keep a youthful expression in his face. A long white beard could be seen coming off of his chin. He also kept sniffling every few seconds.

“I don't want to harm you, but I gotta know if you're going to try and shoot a fireball at me again."

“I'm all outta spells for now Scaly, so count yourself lucky."

“Well, that is a relief to hear. But did you really need to cast fireball? Don't you think that might have been overkill?"

“Fired it before I even saw ya. And to be fair, you are trespassing in my tower! Come on and spit out what you have to tell me then."

“Very well, the people of Ransol would like to politely ask you to stop making it rain all the time."

He laughed before he replied, “You think I like causing the rain? I'm old! I can feel the rain in my bones before I even cast the spell. But it's better than the alternative."

“Wait, what's the alternative?"

“ALLERGIES!"

“Oh."

He sniffled again; this time louder. “I can't stand this time of year! All of the flowers made me and my nose miserable with their dreadful pollen. I can't think straight when my nose is stuffed up. Breaks up my concentration, and when I lose concentration it's never good."

“How bad could it be?"

“Have you ever seen a mugworm get the wrong dosage of sulfur?"

“Can't say I have."

“Count yourself lucky!", he crooned.

“Haven't you seen how miserable everyone is? Your rain is causing quite a stir down there."

“Can't say I noticed honestly. I haven't left this tower in at least a few years. I've got plenty of spell components stocked up in the basement so I don't really need to go out much."

“Well look Mr.?"

“Fizzbang works for me."

“OK, Fizzbang. I wanna be frank with you. I was sent here to kill you so the rain would stop, but I don't like having to kill folks. Is there any way you'd be willing to let me help you with your allergy problem?"

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, uh..."

“Ingersyn."

“Right, Ingersyn. But whatever remedy you may know won't help me. I've tried all sorts of magical spells, incantations, and deals with various patrons who would listen but no one's been able to help."

“I'm not offering my services, I'm just a weaver. But I do have a friend who is an accomplished miracle worker. She's a few days' ride from here, but I'd be willing to take you."

“Well what are we waiting for? Let me grab my traveling cloak and we can set out immediately."

Ingersyn grabbed Fizzbang's robe as he went to rush past him.

“Hold up, not so fast. The townspeople are going to be expecting me back by tomorrow. We've gotta cause some kinda distraction so they don't end up looking for me or your body when we ride around the town. And I have just the idea that could work."

Ingersyn worked out a deal with Fizzbang and stayed that night in the tower. The skeleton from earlier helped him mend his wagon's wheels and they stabled the horse. After a good night's sleep, he told Fizzbang what he wanted him to do.

“Is there any way you can make your rainstorm bigger? Like cast a stronger version of the spell?"

“Of course, boy! Now stand back and see how a wizard conjures a storm when he puts his back into it." For emphasis, he stood up straight and cracked his back into place.

Fizzbang stepped forward and smacked his staff off the ground rhythmically. After doing this three times he let the staff go and it continued to smack the ground in rhythm. He flicked his arms back and his sleeves fell down to his elbows. The incantations started out soft, as if carried by a wind but soon grew louder. The thunder roiled in the distance as he moved his gnarled hands. Shaping the clouds into one massive storm cloud. Fizzbang was visibly straining as he held the water vapor in this concentrated cloud.

“Alright, hold it right there!", Ingersyn screamed over the sound of the whipping wind.

“I can only do this about once a week but here goes!"

Ingersyn opened the window of the tower and, using his tail for support, leaned out of the window. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Trails of smoke and flame started to flick at the outside of his mouth, until his eyes shot open. And he breathed out an enormous fireball. It sailed through the air and made contact with the massive cloud. The next thing Ingersyn remembered was getting blown back into Fizzbang from the force of the wind.

When they both came to a few minutes later they both couldn't see. The fog outside of the tower was so thick that you could hardly see in front of your face. This would be ample cover to get out and travel past the town.

The trip out to the miracle worker and back was uneventful. It was a long ride, but Fizzbang had been good company. By the time he introduced him, Ingersyn considered Fizzbang a friend. It was at least another month until he heard from him again. Ingersyn had been traveling around the area with his newly restocked supplies and decided to pop in for a quick visit.

When he pulled up to the tower, he saw Fizzbang in overalls, tending to some flowers at the front of the tower.

“I take it your allergies are cured then huh?"

Fizzbang wiped off his hands on his overalls before turning around and giving a big smile.

“Yep!"

And in a flash, he removed his nose from his face with his hand before saying, “No more stuffy nose!"