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Joseph
He closes the spellbook carefully. As its covers are shut a faint shimmering signals the activation of the sealing enchantment he has placed upon it. He returns the book to its place among the others in his satchel. A mere gesture of his hand is all that is required for the satchel to reduce itself to a very small size. Secreting the tiny container away, he rests his hand on the other satchel that he carrries, a stachel likewise filled with books – books filled with arcane scribblings and bound after the fashion of spellbooks - and sits back to listen as the others make conversation with the new arrival. One can never be too careful where spellbooks are concerned and the muttering phantasm he conjured seems to have done its work of distraction rather well. He smiles. This time of restful thought has done him good and while he must rest yet longer before he can commit again his spells to memory, the time spent in preparing himself to do so shall serve him well on the morrow.
His eyes move once more to the newcomer – a lady, a priestess and a traveler, as the warrior has put it. How quaint. A most curious creature would be another way of describing her. There is a cautiousness in her movements and, he suspects, a wary appraisal in those eyes that are hidden in the shadows of her hood. This being able to observe her gazing at his duplicate has proven to be an unexpected benefit. He laughs silently to himself, amused that even as she gazes at his apparently distracted form he might in turn freely study her. There is a gracefulness about her movements and a tunefulness about her speaking that the folds of her cloak cannot conceal. Curious indeed, for she is hesitant with more than mere caution. ~ And whither truth between two who so actively conceal? ~ He smiles at the question and nearly bursts out laughing as the clear tones of Larry’s new voice ring out again. ~ Of course ~ he smiles wryly ~ some things will always find a way to manifest themselves.
The mental formality required in the selecting of enchantments no longer needed, his thoughts settle into a different and more relaxed rhythm.
Larry ...... Spontaneous. Too damn spontaneous. Likeable, true, but insecure and spontaneous – and that’s a combination that can get a guy killed. And his friends with him. Now ain’t that a kick in the head? He could just as easily leave, and that just might be his best move as it don’t take an awful lot of insight to see that there’s most likely going to be too damn much enthusiastic do-goodering, not to mention the typically excessive amounts of life-threatening situations that come with that heroic stuff, in the very near future with this bunch. He sighs. The fingers of his right hand trace a brief, but complicated series of movements and a moment later are holding a gilded coin. While the others speak and his double paces and mutters, he tosses the coin into the air, catches it and places it upon his left wrist. Heads it is. Looks like it’ll be danger and do-goodering for the time being. It’s always heads, of course, but a guy does have to observe the niceties in making big decisions like this.
His double falls silent and closes its book. It turns and walks over to the tree where he sits and as it moves to place its book within the satchel and to sit down itself, the illusion vanishes – the fading light of evening disguising the slight blurring of its form as it does so – leaving only himself resting quietly against the tree, his hand upon his satchel of books. Good manners would probably demand that he introduce himself to the newcomer, but he’s had more than enough of all that visiting new and exciting places and meeting new and exciting people nonsense for one day. And so he closes his eyes.
[ 04-24-2005, 09:22 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]
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