Someone around here was blocking his magic.
Well, not all of it. The mortal magic, mostly. The casting of elements, the warping of minds, the... Look, it's a bit of a list, okay? He was something of a magus, you see. It all started a short while ago when he felt sort of a dead zone, all of a sudden. It bothered him, and so he tried a few spells and got nothing. Now, there were a few times that he'd been to Connlaoth, but in a less-obvious form than now.
Oh, I do apologize. Currently, this fellow here was dressed in the attire of some kind of evil warlock. Seriously, it was a bit over-the-top. Black torso armor, matching cloak-mantle with shoulder pads, leather belt with a skull emblem, leather pants and travel boots with spikes, and a ram-horned helmet that seemingly left his face obscured in shadow. It was so shockingly out there that the innkeeper had stared him dumbfoundedly for a solid minute when he simply said 'Room, please'. He had been afraid not to give him a room, worried that it was the black magus who brought about human misery, Garlock The Destroyer.
Funny thing... It was.
But at the time, he had been wishing for a rest on a nice firm mattress, and so this right now was the well-rested bane of humankind. Julien had entered while he was testing out what magic worked and what did not, before getting his attetion. During the time he was getting drunk, Garlock had called over the innkeeper's cat, a gray female tabby.
"Mow?"
"Yes, I just want to check... Does that man seem like he's traveled alot, recently?"
She ambled on over, took a whiff of all the men around where Garlock had been pointing, then returned.
"Row!"
"I see, yes... I thought so, too. Thank you."
"Merow?"
"Possibly... I'll try not to make TOO MUCH of a mess."
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And all while that was going on, Rena had entered town. Rather than seeking Julien out, she had gone to the local scribe, written out a posting, and had it copied. She kept the original while the scribe would keep copying, before sending over a bunch to the local message man with his messenger birds. Rena was headed there now. Other copies of the script were going to be put up in places in town, where people passing by would read it. The message was to warn of a rogue Mordecai using his ability to take advantage of people, and a fairly-detailed description would follow. She was spending a bit of coin on this out of her own pocket, but Rena wasn't in it for the money. I mean, hell, you know where she was sending the original? Right to the king!