[h3][color=bedded][b][center]Thomas Richard Harrison[/center][/b][/color][/h3]
[center][indent][color=bedded][i]Location:[/i][/color] Road North of Salarn,
[color=bedded][i]Interacting with:[/i][/color] Satilla, Ntaj, and a tree.[/indent][/center]

[color=bedded]"Yes, sort of. I mean that's not the direct effect, but more of a..."[/color] Oh boy. Satilla did it now. Conversing with an academic type regarding spells and sorcery? While there were various theories and ruminations on the fundamental laws of magics, there was one rule on which all spellcasters would agree on. [color=bedded]"Well, the First Afinian Postulate states that all magic has a price, whether directly observable or not. Each spell being cast is something of a disturbance within the fabric of reality, and the ripples it causes both have a rise and fall. The more powerful the spell, the greater the amplitude. And more often than not, magisters must absorb that ripple. Or at least that is what is posited. Some are trying to get around the ripple by deflecting it, but most attempts to disprove the Postulate ends poorly from what has been published. So the effects of my spell are magically-induced fever that usually persist until the morrow, and an attunement of my body to the next stage in the cosmic cycle."[/color]

Well that was rather a bit of a didactic. But it is what happens when you want to talk shop with a scholar. Unless the lesson was actually fruitful and enjoyable, but most formally trained magic user would be familiar with the First Afinian Postulate. Although Thomas did end up answering the question at the end, the last statement was unclarified. Of which would be the more important of the two to edify others on since few people have met such celestial souls. A spawn of the sun, moon, and stars, touched by the magic of something far greater than themselves and yet of themselves, to be merely a vessel for your true self for you belong out there. But Thomas was no starry-eyed sorcerer, not yet at least, since he was far too young to begin lusting to leave this wretched place in favour of a higher plane. Give it another forty or fifty years maybe.

[color=bedded]"Oh, thanks, is this isn't Coca is it?"[/color] Thomas took the leaves and examined them, sniffing the gifted greenery, [color=bedded]"I'm not so good with identifying exotic plants, usually have a catalogue or pre-labeled ingredients to brew potions with. But um, if I could guess you'd be able to teach me a thing or two, if you're willing to be my teacher that is."[/color] Well she was a pretty girl, perhaps his last comment regarding having her examine him regardless was a subliminal pass at the chance of them getting together? No, in all honesty, Thomas was hardly considering that at the time, or this time, despite what most thought about a boy his age. However, as intent was not intrinsic to words, nothing could or would stop Satilla from thinking that maybe he was flirting with her if she chose to view it as such. Or she could be as oblivious as he currently was, but Thomas has a burning fever, what was her excuse?

A nod to the orcling-thing. Looks like Thomas has a new adventuring group. Success! And oh look someone was building a fire and that cockney-bloke was building plucking a goose. There is perhaps an irony there, as the smoke and scent would probably attract whatever roving mob to their camp.