You sigh and start explaining your quest, but Foghorn suddenly starts swearing. He it seems he has forgotten to focus on breaking your spell on his sleeping foe, and that his progress has been reset. "Well don't just stand there boy, I say help me untangle this spell so we can kill him!"
With a nod you get to work along side the wizard. Your critically successful spell is a pain in the ass to break, and by the time the two of you finish, it is night again. Foghorn then casualy executes Phyros by slowing down his respiratory system while speeding up the rest of his body, causing the poor old man to suffocate in under five seconds. 1d20 = 5 + 9(His Skill) + 4(Your skill) - 2(Dealing with a critical spell) = 16
Foghorn whipes the sweat from his brow and you pick back up with your story. "My father sent me here, to the future, with a powerful ritual. Many virgins were sacrificed. How far forward did I go?"
The wizard counts on his fingers and scratches his head. "Either 875 or 912 years. I get the date of the night troll genocide and start of the second werebeing war mixed..."
"I don't remember a second werebeing war... it must have been 875..."
Foghorn produces a pipe from his pocket and sets about stuffing it with herbs. "Trust me, not alot has changed. The humans, goblins, and dwarves have some fancy new toys. But thats about it. Everybody still hates everybody. And everybody still fears the night."
You take a deep breath and cut to the chase. "Do you think I could serve you for awhile, until I figure things out? I never hunted on my own before... All I ask in return is that you help me find a mate when the time comes." 1d20 = 8 + 1(Skill) = 9
The wizard considers your offer for a second. "I don't think I'm comfortable with that idea. I have several daughters, a couple of whom I'm actually rather fond of. Its not that I don't trust you, its that I don't trust your instincts. I'll tell you what though... If you make a name for yourself, and let me take credit for conjuring you here, it would do wonders for my reputation as the most vile warlock in the land. If you do that for me, I'll let you live in this tower and send you support in the form of supplies and advice from time to time."
Foghorn offers a pale human hand. "What do you say boy, we have a deal?"
"Errmm...."