AC: 14 (17with Mage Armor) | HP: 30/30 | Initiative: +4Oracular Insight (I'll often use this for important initiative checks)
"The gods give you flashes of insight that help you bring your efforts to fruition. When you make an ability check, you can roll a d10 and add the number rolled to the check. You can wait until after you roll the d20 before deciding to add the d10, but you must decide before the DM says whether the roll succeeds or fails. Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a short or long rest." | Passive Perception: 17 | Spell Slots 1/2 (1st)
A second bite of the deliciously gooey, cheesy, flakey pastry in his mouth, he watched the cloaked figure cautiously enter the mall. That was quick. The hood fell back to reveal... her. The little violin maker from the caravan. Or so he had thought of her. She had intrigued him. He'd felt attracted to her--as if the force driving him toward Baromenes was suddenly offering a detour in the form of this little violin maker. But no: he had not dared to approach her.
Instead, he stole brief glimpses of her, snatching them while she wasn't looking. He wasn't proud of the fact, but arcane trickery was in his blood. She had been guarded, watchful. And clearly the girl was perceptive. But with his invisible mage hand, he could easily create subtle distractions to draw her attention elsewhere within the crowded caravan camp. And through Clair's eyes he could watch from places she'd not anticipate.
He'd told himself it was just a game. The spy game. One of the first the Master had taught him. But on their second day together in the caravan, he'd had another memory: of that day long ago. A memory from his first vision. A brief flash of future. Of her.
And now, here she was, the sun catching her auburn hair, her haunting green eyes upon him, standing in an empty Halaean city. His vision.
And there was no place to hide.
"Well, you can't have followed me... since you got here first. But, don't I remember you, from the caravan?"
His mouth hung open, revealing a small bit of yet-to-be-swallowed pastry. She was talking to him. Her voice felt familiar, as if he'd heard it before, many times. A pleasant voice, deeper than he'd expected, but comforting. He wanted her to keep talking. He wondered what it would be like to hear her sing.
He forced his thoughts back into the moment.
His mouth had gone dry. He tried to swallow the remaining bit of pastry in his mouth so as to speak a reply. The effort brought painful realization that he'd left the orifice hanging open--likely revealing the food in his mouth! His throat made an audible gulp. He had just enough presence of mind to nod an answer.
Her eyes were so...
"I thought, it will sound strange, I suppose, but I thought there would be something here..."
He looked away from those piercing green eyes, that earthy face framed in auburn lit by the sun. He took a deep breath, his eyes casting about the empty mall, the rich Halaean architecture, the black cat on the balcony. The effort helped restore some small portion of his intelligence.
His words were quiet--pitched as if she were standing much closer--and uncertain: part question, part observation. "You were drawn here?"
To be continued...?Billie's arrival sounds like a good interrupt to the Mags and Dae intro. But just in case ariel is interested in extending their initial interaction, I've put a line in my text to indicate that more might happen between them before Billie's arrival.
The mastiff burst into the mall, scattering the birds, jumping after them with delight. The large dog seem more playful than aggressive--even if it was the play of a predator. Still, a playful dog is a dog well loved, or so the Master used to say.
The dog was still chasing after birds when the silver-haired elven warrior woman burst into the mall with laughter and palpable anticipation. Were her eyes painted? Ignoring the two humans, the elf used the fountain basin to cool herself down. It looked like a good idea, he was feeling the heat of the day, but he didn't dare join her. That would be too...
The warrior elf turned from her impromptu bird bath and fixed him with black-painted eyes of turquoise. "Are you magic?" She spoke as if those were fighting words.
The words triggered a connection. He suddenly recognized her. The girl who fought in the streets. He laughed aloud at the memory of his first vision of her: a towheaded girl challenging a boy much bigger. "Fight me," she'd said. And she'd nearly beat him.
He'd never seen her looking so... old. She was an adult! Likely older than he was. And strikingly exotic with her black-painted eyes and mussed platinum hair. She'd grown up into just what he would have expected: fierce, passionate, resolute. An irresistible force in search of an immovable object.
And he had laughed at her.
He scrambled for words of apology--he could almost hear the Master whispering a sharp "Manners! Respect"--but found it difficult to think with her eyes upon him. Before he could find the words, her dog was upon him.
Begging for scraps?
He knew mastiffs could be trained for war, and guessed that hers would attack on command if she willed it. Better to feed the dog. He tore off a piece of the pastry pie and offered it to the mastiff, along with some soothing words--looking and sounding like someone who knew his way around large canines.
Focusing on the dog, turning from the intensity of her eyes, allowed him time to gather his thoughts. He looked back to her and answered her question. "Well, actually, my name is an archaic form of an old Halaean word that means magic. So yes, I suppose I am Magic. Call me Mags. But I'm not here to fight you, Blackeye."
He emphasized the final word, making it sound like a proper name or title, rather than an insult. Mags' voice conveyed some boyish nervousness as he met those piercing eyes. And yet, his nervousness did not seem to stem from fear of physical confrontation with the warrior elf.
Mechanics
Main Hand: spanakopita
Off Hand: more spanakopita
Action 1:
Note 1: the cat on the balcony is his familiar
Note 2: Given the weird tingly pull, Mags would have cast Mage Armor on himself before arriving at the this final destination.