and What They Do When No One Else is Around.
The Himmallic Wizard stood at the bow of his Skyboat, bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. He was feeling antsy. The wind blew his cloak back, revealing a close-fitting tunic underneath. It was the light slate color of an overcast sky, and the cloak appeared white, although close inspection would reveal the subtlest shade of sky-blue. There was a hood, but the Himmallic Wizard preferred a simple cap upon his head. With a slight gesture of his hand, the wind ceased pulling at him. The boat’s speed was unaffected. They were approaching a large rock formation floating high above the world. A tower was perched upon the highest point.
When the Skyboat was close enough to the mountain that the Ehrdic Wizard could be seen sitting on the dock, the Himmallic Wizard was joined at the bow by the Brennaric Wizard in his cloak of such a deep crimson that it bordered on maroon. Like the Ehrdic Wizard, he held a shoulder-height staff, although his was gnarled. The Himmallic Wizard’s hands were empty.
The Ehrdic Wizard stood as the Skyboat came to a stop. The Himmallic Wizard leapt from the boat and tied it to the dock. The Brennaric Wizard followed him onto the planks, and they each took a turn embracing the Ehrdic Wizard, who in turn offered them each his leather pouch. Everyone took some leaves, including the Ehrdic Wizard, who topped off his pipe, and before long, fragrant smoke billowed from the dock, followed by bouts of hearty laughter. The view was breathtaking, not only of the world below, but of the stars above, slowly showing themselves as the sun sank further into the West.
The three were enjoying themselves, but there were yet two more wizards supposed to be present for the Meeting, and they were late. This was of course fairly typical of the Vassaric Wizard, and as his traveling companion, the Seithric Wizard was bound to his schedule. They were on a Skyboat of their own, making their way through the clouds, with a course charted for the Ehrdic mountain. The Himmallic Wizard was by far the most skilled at piloting Skyboats, but the Vassaric Wizard’s piloting skills were developed enough that he had no excuse for his tardiness, other than the simple fact that he and the Seithric Wizard lagged over a pipe before they set off. All five of the wizards enjoyed a good pipe. It was perhaps their greatest collective vice.
The Vassaric Wizard wasn’t concerned. He lived by the ancient maxim that a wizard is never late. Neither did the other wizards bother themselves with worry. They understood, and at any rate, they had plenty to discuss among themselves while they waited.
It wasn’t too terribly long, however, before the second Skyboat was being tied to the dock next to the first. Upon departing from the vessel, the Vassaric Wizard took up each of his friends in his arms, holding them in a long embrace. His mantle was a deep purple, as the twilit sky just before the horizon steals the last traces of light. It was trimmed with a rich, goldenrod yellow, and kept fastened about his frame by a simple belt around his waist, from which hung a pouch. He wore a wide-brimmed hat that matched the purple of his robes.
The Seithric Wizard, on the other hand, wore a hood and a robe that were as black as the void of space, so dark that it stood out even among shadows during the New Moon. A sheathed gladius hung from his belt. He hugged no one, although his ruddy complexion expressed great joy at seeing all five of them in one place again. His thoughts echoed the Ehrdic Wizard’s, and indeed, the other three as well: it had been far too long. No matter; wizards are busy folk, after all, and these particular wizards were quite capable of packing many weeks’ worth of time into a single evening.