Raistlin Majere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magus_majere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
filthhub2019-07-18 07:43 pm
magus_majere) wrote in filthhub2019-07-18 07:43 pm
(no subject)
"Massster..." this came from a disembodied head floating in front of Raistlin's desk. The archmagus didn't look up immediately, busy scratching writing onto a piece of flattened parchment, the quill in his thin golden fingers practically vibrating with the speed of his notes.
Genessia was a land of fascinating marvels. He'd be sure not to forget a single one.
"Masssster pleasssse," the head tried a second time.
Finally, Raistlin glanced up, impatient at the interruption. "What?"
"Therrrre is an intruderrr in the Grrove."
That. That was interesting, and Raistlin's hand finally stilled. "In the Grove, you say?"
"Yesssss. The defenderrrssss have not been able to kill it..."
Extremely interesting. Something from Genessia, no doubt, nothing else would make sense. The blackrobe dabbed the last of the ink off the feather quill onto a pad and set the instrument aside, and then took the time to carefully close up the inkwell. This could take a while.
And so it was that whatever this stranger was doing, he suddenly wasn't the only living creature in the dark, ancient grove. Raistlin lurked in the deepest shadows, silently watching.
Genessia was a land of fascinating marvels. He'd be sure not to forget a single one.
"Masssster pleasssse," the head tried a second time.
Finally, Raistlin glanced up, impatient at the interruption. "What?"
"Therrrre is an intruderrr in the Grrove."
That. That was interesting, and Raistlin's hand finally stilled. "In the Grove, you say?"
"Yesssss. The defenderrrssss have not been able to kill it..."
Extremely interesting. Something from Genessia, no doubt, nothing else would make sense. The blackrobe dabbed the last of the ink off the feather quill onto a pad and set the instrument aside, and then took the time to carefully close up the inkwell. This could take a while.
And so it was that whatever this stranger was doing, he suddenly wasn't the only living creature in the dark, ancient grove. Raistlin lurked in the deepest shadows, silently watching.
no subject
"I see. Very well, bring one next time. Perhaps protective magics can be woven into it -- enchanting the phone directly seems unlikely to prove fruitful."
As in he might fry it trying.
Not that this one isn't already fried.
no subject
One less thing to worry about, right?
"They even make these things water proof if you can imagine."
no subject
Gods know how many times he's been dunked with all his spell components on him, although the tight, oiled-leather pouches he uses now prevent most of it from being ruined outright.
Not so much when he was younger in hand-me-down robes and threadbare cloth pouches scavenged from some of Caramon's most worn out clothing.
no subject
These cases are the best. You're definitely gonna want one."
no subject
You might regret that when he shows up with some ridiculously-patterned monstrosity, Raistlin.
In the meanwhile, the mage headed for the door again, and back up to the study, fully certain Wade would follow. Time to get a look at these books, now!