You tell the baron that you were the one to fix the weather.
5
Surprisingly, he seems to believe you—or if he doesn't, he's choosing not to show it. "I see. In that case, I suppose that I must thank you, Wizard of Weather." He frowns. "As a boon, I shall return an item I, er,
collected from your late mentor. Farewell." As he walks through the doorway, he pauses. "Oh, and I'll get your door fixed, too." The baron and his squadron march away once more.
The next day, a well-dressed man walks up to your door, a package in his hands. Instead of entering, he just sort of stands around awkwardly. "Uh, hello? I'd knock, but..."
As always, you walk down to meet him. Upon seeing you, he visibly relaxes, walking in after only a brief pause. "I come bearing a gift from our baron, Octis." He hands you the package. "Unless you wish to send a message back with me, I shall take my leave."
You wave him off; after giving one quick bow, he leaves through the still-empty doorway. You head back upstairs with the package, excited to see what might be inside. Unwrapping it, you find...
...a reflective grey robe! You recognize this item—it's the
Robe of Rain! When worn, it absorbs nearby raindrops, converting them to mana—and transferring the mana to its wearer! Of course, it can't transfer the mana if no-one is wearing it, and it has no real storage capacity, so it won't do much good if you're cooped up in your tower each day... which you usually are. Darn.
It should make meditating more efficient, at least. Also, you can stop wearing your current, totally mundane robe—which was honestly kind of embarrassing. You're glad you haven't met any other wizards since you've claimed your tower.
(Later that week, a carpenter comes by to fix your door, as promised.)
Spring of 342 - Week 6
Early one morning, you wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. (Man, it's nice to have a door again.) Opening it, you expect to see the baron, or perhaps one of his servants; instead, you're greeted with the dirty face of a farmer.
He's clearly nervous, but he manages to work up the courage to speak. "U-um, hello. I'm a farmer, and I'd like to ask you a favour." He gulps. "Our farm hasn't been doing too well, and... uh..." He trails off.
You start to tap your foot; he immediately jumps. "Sorry! Sorry! Well... I heard that you fixed the drought a while back, so I was wondering if you might be able to give my farm a bit of extra rain, i-if it isn't too much trouble." He freezes. "I wouldn't expect you to do it for free, of course! We aren't rich, but I could provide you with some food. If you need food." He rubs his chin, clearly thinking. "Oh! If you need an apprentice, we have a son."
You frown. A costless source of food would free up some funds, but not enough to justify draining the last of your mana reserves—which a weather spell, even localized to a farm, would likely do. The apprentice is an even worse offer; you have hardly anything to teach—only what your own mentor taught you, really—and the chance of any given farmer's son having a large amount of potential is rather low. You'd certainly be able to teach them, if they had the drive, but they'd never be great.
...Well, assuming that they
don't have an exceptional amount of potential; someone has to win the lottery, after all.
He's getting really anxious. You should probably answer before he panics and runs off.
A: "I will accept your request out of the goodness of my heart. No payment is necessary."
B: "I will accept your request in exchange for the food."
C: "I will accept your request in exchange for an apprentice."
D: "I will accept your request in exchange for the food and an apprentice."
E: "Do you have anything else to offer?"
F: "I apologize, but I lack the mystic energy needed to grant your request."
G: "You waste my time. Begone."
((I would talk about the apprentice system, but I'm tired. tl;dr: wizards are celibate, so you get pupils instead of heirs))