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Description
Things had been going so smoothly.
It was just another show night at the Pig n Whistle. Raistlin, having yet again dazzled the audience with flawless and fascinating feats of illusion and magic was standing to one side of the bar, taking a breather and watching as Caramon, as per usual, lifted barrels, tables, and the innkeeper over his head in demonstration of his great strength. For some strange reason, however, the crowd was less impressed by this than usual. The mage shook his head, frowning. Maybe it was something to do with the amount of ale Caramon had consumed, making the big man stagger slightly, or maybe the audience had just seen this particular act too many times, but he could sense their disinterest. Raistlin felt uneasy as he heard their mutterings, catching the dangerous tone of boredom that no performer ever wants to hear in his audience. He stood up, preparing to usher Caramon off early, when a shrill voice called something out that froze him in his tracks.
"Pick up the wizard!"
The audience went dead silent. and then the worst possible thing happened.
someone laughed.
"yeah, pick up the wizard! "
and then, horribly, Caramon laughed too. "What, Raist? he's so skinny, I could pick him up with one hand!"
Frustratingly enthusiastic, the audience laughed and roared in approval. Raistlin's hourglass eyes flashed towards his brother, wide and practically burning with rage. Caramon, again, probably due to the alcohol in his system, missed the deadly look and lumbered towards his brother, scooping him up with ease and lifting him into the air high above his head before Raistlin could protest. Perched precariously on Caramon's broad palm, Raistlin struggled to keep his balance, barely able to keep himself from demolishing the audience with a real fireball as they laughed and roared and cheered. This was NOT what they had rehearsed!! Forcing down his embarrassment, he suddenly swung his staff, cracking Caramon on the skull with the hard wood hard enough to make the big man yelp and tumble back onto the floor. The audience rocked with laughter and cheering. Raistlin was momentarily grateful for the featherfall enchantment on his staff as he floated down easily, descending like a big, red bird of prey, casting his prostrate brother a disdainful look before turning his golden, hourglass eyes on the audience. They swiftly fell silent, one and all suddenly struck by a heavy sense of fear and oncoming reprimand. He stared at them a moment longer, his face filled with scorn and hatred, and then he drew up his hood, masking his expression and breaking the silence with his rasping whisper...
"if you are quite finished... we will continue."

Raistlin and Caramon Majere are from Dragonlance and belong to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman
Drawing and minific are by meee

Description
Things had been going so smoothly.
It was just another show night at the Pig n Whistle. Raistlin, having yet again dazzled the audience with flawless and fascinating feats of illusion and magic was standing to one side of the bar, taking a breather and watching as Caramon, as per usual, lifted barrels, tables, and the innkeeper over his head in demonstration of his great strength. For some strange reason, however, the crowd was less impressed by this than usual. The mage shook his head, frowning. Maybe it was something to do with the amount of ale Caramon had consumed, making the big man stagger slightly, or maybe the audience had just seen this particular act too many times, but he could sense their disinterest. Raistlin felt uneasy as he heard their mutterings, catching the dangerous tone of boredom that no performer ever wants to hear in his audience. He stood up, preparing to usher Caramon off early, when a shrill voice called something out that froze him in his tracks.
"Pick up the wizard!"
The audience went dead silent. and then the worst possible thing happened.
someone laughed.
"yeah, pick up the wizard! "
and then, horribly, Caramon laughed too. "What, Raist? he's so skinny, I could pick him up with one hand!"
Frustratingly enthusiastic, the audience laughed and roared in approval. Raistlin's hourglass eyes flashed towards his brother, wide and practically burning with rage. Caramon, again, probably due to the alcohol in his system, missed the deadly look and lumbered towards his brother, scooping him up with ease and lifting him into the air high above his head before Raistlin could protest. Perched precariously on Caramon's broad palm, Raistlin struggled to keep his balance, barely able to keep himself from demolishing the audience with a real fireball as they laughed and roared and cheered. This was NOT what they had rehearsed!! Forcing down his embarrassment, he suddenly swung his staff, cracking Caramon on the skull with the hard wood hard enough to make the big man yelp and tumble back onto the floor. The audience rocked with laughter and cheering. Raistlin was momentarily grateful for the featherfall enchantment on his staff as he floated down easily, descending like a big, red bird of prey, casting his prostrate brother a disdainful look before turning his golden, hourglass eyes on the audience. They swiftly fell silent, one and all suddenly struck by a heavy sense of fear and oncoming reprimand. He stared at them a moment longer, his face filled with scorn and hatred, and then he drew up his hood, masking his expression and breaking the silence with his rasping whisper...
"if you are quite finished... we will continue."

Raistlin and Caramon Majere are from Dragonlance and belong to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman
Drawing and minific are by meee