The masked figure had collapsed amid pathetic rasping, and with it all of the varyingly intact assailants now lay motionless. In a way, Ulor was disappointed. The enchanter who had appeared so terrifying to him was, after all, seemingly no more than a feeble ancient, at least in body. No tremendous force had intervened to shield him from the ghostly blast, and, along with an arrow which, he supposed, must have originated from the elf, that had been sufficient to strike him down. The fear had faded from his mind with a strange abruptness which led him to suspect it might have been another of the parched creature's unnatural spells. Or, perhaps, it was another effect of that mysterious banishment. Thinking of which, could it truly be he had never heard or read of anything of that sort before? He turned some inward eyes towards the fluid tree-trunk of memory, seeking among the secret lore of arcane spellcrafts he had accumulated throughout the years.

Without ceasing to devote a fraction of his attention to peer inward, Ulor replaced the crystal into his backpack with a single dexterous motion. Behind him, the tiefling was saying something to the nearby commoners - some sort of apology, apparently. Why she thought the group owed anything to these people was beyond him, but it was also none of his business. What interested him most was to discover what it was this being carried to lend him such powers, or what knowledge he could draw upon. But then, something else occurred to him, and - ah, it was fortuitous that the paladin should have hauled the body off to disarm it. Turning his head towards him, Ulor spoke briefly. Well, as briefly as it went with him.

"As the cosmic potencies will it, I am. We should take this one-" he prodded the fallen enemy with the end of his staff, "-question him, see if he carries anything uncommon. There may be something of value for us to learn."

Moving aside, he turned his gaze to the merchants' stalls which so happened to stand on that street. Not only would conjuring the octopus back into being require a fairly long incantation, but a ritual offering would have to be made in order to coax the spirit back into the material realm. And it so happened he did not have the necessary materials, nor an adequate fire into which to cast the sacrifice. Before he began to rifle through the creature's belongings, he would do well to see if he could find at least some of them around here.

Advancing towards the nearest stall, without ceasing to examine it he queried the nearby townsfolk, oblivious to whether or nor the struggle they had just seen had left them shaken or otherwise unfit for business: "Do any of you have priestly implements to sell? Incense and dry herbs to burn, braziers or censers? If you do-" he whispered a curious, unintelligible word, and a gust of chilling wind seemed to blow from behind him towards the nearest commoners, "-be careful not to conceal them. Not from me."


[hider=Mechanics]

Still puzzled by what the Drifter did to him, Ulor tries to remember if he has heard about anything like this.

Arcana roll: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/2962]16[/url]

He then surveys the merchants' stalls for anything he might find useful in casting [i]Find Familiar[/i]...

Investigation roll: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/2963]2[/url]

...and needlessly threatens the townsfolk not to hide anything from him, using [i]Prestidigitation[/i] to summon a breath of cold wind.

Intimidation roll: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/2964]23[/url]

[/hider]