Sequel to this one: I'm walking back to the mage's circle the next month, and a fellow I recognize from the local guild of "merchants" (read: "merchants liberally mixed with thieves and assassins") is sitting by the side of the road. I walk by.
A throwing knife proceeds to *BANG* off my back (he even managed to hit me right where the dent was from last time), which should do enough damage to kill an unarmored little scholar dead. Of course, he didn't realize I was actually wearing armor under my clothes...and was rather shocked when I didn't react much to the knife sticking in the back of my clothing (the foam knife having neatly wedged itself between two plates).
I turn around and give him the evil eye. He then proceeds to say "If you say ANYTHING about last month, you're a dead man!"- while still trying to figure out why little Saul isn't flat on his face and dying like a good victim.
I pull the knife out and hand it back to him, not saying a word, and stalk off down the path. Now, the town has two bars at the time. One is the Five Lions, where everyone can go and be relatively safe.
The other one is the Rat's Nest. Nice people who went into the Rat's Nest didn't come out unless they had a very respectable (and not so nice) couple of bodyguards, at least- rogues, evil mages, necromancers, and worse called it their watering hole, and woe to whoever visited.
I decided it was time to cleanse it of as much scum and villainy as possible and detoured for the Rat's Nest...only to look inside and find nobody was there.
Apparently, evil was afoot somewhere else. No worries there. One of the first spells I'd learned as an apprentice is a simple "start a piece of wood on fire" incantation, and I had a respectable mana pool. Enough for, oh, a few DOZEN castings of that spell.