He woke up, laying alone by himself in his small room in the Leaky Cauldron. Watching the time fly by trying to remember a drop of his dying past. His name is Jerome Montreal, alas that is the only thing he remembers of his entire life.....his name. He looks beside him to see a small stick sitting there. He picks it up and fiddles with it, wondering "What is this". Then all of the sudden BANG sparks fly across the room and blast the window into nothing but a pile of glass. "WHAT IN THE DEVIL WAS THAT" he yelled defiantly in a way as to which anyone within a mile could hear the sharp words uttered from his mouth. He then wanders out of his room wondering if his day could get any more bizarre. When he reaches the the hall of the Leaky Cauldron he see's something he couldn't even began to explain with anything else but one word "Magic"! There was a bloody battle going on in the of the room between to middle aged men. He wanted to help but all he could do was stand and watch as the men sent lightning fast bolts at each other with their strange sticks.  Jerome then hurries to the shop owner and says "What are they doing, you reckon?" The shop owner replied "Dueling of course, and come to think of it making a mess out of me entire pub. "They're the lamest duelist ever" the shop owner said. "But aye where are me manners, the names Joseph Mcindrile".