There was a gentle rap at the door. Cornelius Noomid looked up from the scroll before him, frowning. He thought he’d kept his shopfront locked this morning. Perhaps he’d forgotten to lock it the night before. With a shrug, he called for whomever was beyond to enter, and be quick about it. The door opened, and a tall, slim young man, adorned in gaudy raiment including a simply preposterous hat proclaiming him a “Wizurd” stepped lightly though, peering about the room slightly disinterestedly.
“Good day, Master. The Princess has arrived.”