i own a book of spells for defending mine tower, that is what thy wizards council intended
four peasants invade mine domain
“what the devil?” i grab mine wizardly hat and staff, i cast a fireball at the first knave, he ist burnt to a crisp
draw mine old wand on the second man, misseth him entirely because it ist driftwood, and lightning striketh the local alchemist
i have to resort to the arcane runes at the top of the spire enchanted by ancient spirits
“mruk tah maggh!”
the wrath of hell incinerateth the two knaves, some townsfolk outside art set ablaze with flame
i cast an explosion and blow away the last yokel
he lieth outside waiting for the nobles to arrive and lock him in the dungeon, as his legs art broken
ah, just as thy wizards council intended