A slight frown creased his mouth, but the half-elf merely nods, setting down his beer and reaching out for it. 

[color=66ff00]"I would, yeah,"[/color] he said, then glanced over at Katelyn. [color=66ff00]"Iffen you don't mind, miss?"[/color]

The moment the book touched his hand, Jake knew. It hadn't just captured his words - somehow, it caught a bit of the emperor's soul. He was older than his paintings, but it was still the same man, same smile as he wrote and sketched, the horror of seeing a deadly scorpion and reacting immediately by using the closest thing at hand - and then realizing he'd used his notebook. He had a vague sense of others, the ripping of pages... but that was it.

The others were watching. How long had he been lost in the recollections?

Jake brought the notebook up to his nose and sniffed deeply, picking up the sweet, pungent, musty smell. [color=66ff00]"Old paper,"[/color] he smiled, just slightly. [color=66ff00]"Forgers usually darken the paper with tea, different smell.[/color] He then examines the binding. [color=66ff00]"This was made in Iridia city by the Carnegie Papermill, about 1830s. They always inserted this purple thread on either side for the Emperor's stock."[/color]

Opening the book, he started flipping through the pages. 

[color=66ff00]"Handwriting and prose can be copied,"[/color] Jake said, [color=66ff00]"but this, this is genuine up until this final entry."[/color]

[color=66ff00]"So,"[/color] he asked, handing it back to Katelyn, [color=66ff00]"Who took this afterward? You great-grandmother?"[/color]