We were in the New Moon. Beers had been drunk. Shots had been chased. People were merry, in that bordeline half wild before it all kicks off sort of way, and tall tales were being told.
As you might expect when a group with a profession in common gather, people talk shop, and in this case as the group were witches. The shop was magic and the the context was the ...
... 'best spell that I have ever cast'.
Imagine the type of 'my fish was this size' stories told among fishermen, amped up and fuelled by booze.
Imagine also factions and unhealthy rivalry.