#wizard's queue

“Thank you for enlightening me, my dear. Such displays of simple wit always... brighten my day.”

“Alas, all good things come to an end. The Official Compendium of The Crown Wars, first edition with gold leaf illuminations and gilded edges, sits upon the bookshelf of another these days. I do so hope it is treated with care.”

The elf dipped his hand down to his desk, his slender fingers guided towards a mug sitting upon a coaster there. Lifting it upwards to sniff the drink’s aroma - coffee, black, with a dash of cream and spice - he went for a sip, only to wince moments after. “Though if you insist upon knowing the one I find handy on a near-daily basis,” he mused aloud to the asker whilst his finger traced circles upon the rim of the practically frigid stimulant, “it would be the one I use specially to heat a lukewarm beverage into a more palatable temperature for drinking. While it is little more than a cantrip, I find its simplicity delightful.”

Sand paused with a frown, considering the question even further with a thoughtful arch of an eyebrow. “Were I to choose a battle between either it would depend on what defenses I have against the illithid, and how young the dragon in question may be. There are many variables when considering which would be worse in terms of combat.”

Sand blinked as the message droned on, eventually disinterestedly leaving in the middle of it. Though he had no idea where it was coming from, who it was really for, or what in the realms a Krogan was or how well endowed they must be, he had a feeling it preyed on the insecurity of those who felt they had something that needed compensation.

Sand grimaced. “The lack of hygiene would be a key note, in addition to knowing the others perhaps uncomfortably well. For instance, being updated at every possible opportunity on the progress of Grobnar’s ingrown pubic hair. He named it Ferninabop and insisted I cast a spell to grant it sentience.” Taking a moment to massage his temples, the wizard continued flatly, “it took months to truly forget that image that taunted me every time I would close my eyes.”

Sand appraised you carefully before answering, “They traveled from Evereska to cities with a more mixed variety of Faerûnian races. They are upper class and value instruction and experience, and made sure that others in the immediate family received a well-rounded education.” That seemed to be all he would disclose for now.

Sand pointed crossly down to the ground at the feline stubbornly nestled between two books on a shelf upon this stranger’s bookcase. “Jaral! Manners!” When the cat merely twitched, staring defiantly at his owner, Sand snapped his fingers and hissed and Jaral became an orange streak zooming across the floor. The exasperated wizard sent an apologetic glance the stranger’s way, and went striding towards the direction of his familiar. No amount of pettings would surely console the haughty cat until he’d see a fresh serving of tuna, Sand was certain…