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Mark is bored out of his mind.
They've been at this tavern in Taywin for far too long. The other members of Best Wishes were still having a good time, however, and Mark didn't want to wander back to the house alone. Not because it was dangerous or anything, he just didn't feel like being alone right now.
So, how to amuse himself?
He started with a simple cantrip causing a light breeze to ripple through the clothing of the people seated at the bar. None of them reacted at all.
Disappointed but not deterred, he moved on. Conjuring a mage hand he used it to harry a patron that was harassing a table of quiet half-elven women in the corner. He watched as the man got angrier and angrier, whipping his head back and forth as the invisible hand tapped first his left shoulder, then his right.
Mark barely stifled a laugh as the man tripped over himself trying to attack his ghostly assailant. Catching the noise from his corner of the table, Miri glanced over at him.
"What are you doing, Mark?" she asked, her tone betraying the fact that she already knew he was up to something.
"I'm so bored, I decided to make my own entertainment," he said, nodding to the blustering man. The women at the table he'd been focused on previously were trying, and failing, to suppress their own laughter at his sudden antics.
"Well, don't let me stop you. What else 'ya got?" Miri moved to sit next to Mark, setting her mug of ale down so sharply that it sloshed out onto the table.
"Remember when I shit that gentlewoman's pants in the street? And then shit the pants of the guy that rushed in to save her? Maybe I'll do that again," Mark mused.
"But then it's going to smell even worse in here than it already does." Miri screwed up her face in distaste.
"Well, the spell technically just says 'soil an object.' I guess it doesn't have to be shit. Maybe…hold on, I've got an idea." And with a simple incantation and a flick of his wrist, he filled the brute's pants with cum.
Sensing something off, the man looked down at his pants, seeing a growing wet spot on the front. His face turned redder than anything Mark had ever seen and he ran out the door faster than Thistle ran when he saw drugs. The women at the table he left burst into raucous laughter.
Miri and Mark looked at each, smiling, before turning to scan the tavern for their next victim.