On Hedge Wizards
Hedge wizards dwell deep in towering shrubberies, brewing disasters and meddling with what copper drops from the pockets of a passerby outside the city gate. They’re not necessarily poor, but they aren’t managing to find a slot on the market at this point in time for their overflowing stock of poorly made elixirs and tonics. The local Arch Mage authority snickers haughtily, constantly, at the hedge wizard’s efforts. Rogues make off with his robes before he’s even known what has happened! Bebother the lot! A sad point in history indeed, even from neighbor Roger the Shrubber. Hedge wizards are seldom able to afford the rent of a shrubbery room nowadays. It’s an utter mess, horrible!
Yet, all has not been lost. What these, these mystical magestic men do not possess in talent, they make up for with their extraordinary beards. Lo and behold Captain Knuckles, an adventurer of Stormalong, once commented on a hedge wizard’s beard saying, “Some day you’ll have a find beard, maybe, but probably never as fine as a hedge wizard’s. Why if the sun’s light even touched a hedge wizard’s glorious mere stubble, the heat rays would become magnified through his beards perfect crystalline structure, and he’d burn this entire port to cinders. That’s why they hide in hedges.” (the sun howled with an ascending aura of light at this, I have witnessed one such event… but that was many moons ago indeed).
On any note… Certainly takes true prowess to master the art of Shrub Sorcery. Who, outwardly of no such thicket descent, could involuntarily mount and reign a twelve-headed Hydra and endure the loony adventure whence landing? Hedge wizards are outright queer confustications of mad bewilderment.
