21st of Frost, 4622
The continued efforts of the Griscian had not been in vain. Even though the conversation had taken a turn, one of his more recent attempts at delving into the world of Mages had turned out with some useful information and a conundrum. Once he had finished for the day, he had begged for leave and promised to return, much to the Guild’s dismay. Wandering around the area, Ford had a piece of paper in his hand, something that had once been folded in half twice. As he walked, his footsteps carried him toward a tavern. He was putting a great deal of focus on whatever had been on the paper, but the paper was too small to be anything worth reading but large enough to have something Ford could study. Once he had realized he was in the shadow of something, his blue-eyed gaze finally tore from the paper, and he looked up, realizing he was in front of a tavern. A tilt of his head in either direction, and he shrugged as he entered the establishment, pressing inwards and pausing where his eyes would adjust to the lighting.
Once his eyes were adjusted, the blonde, who stood at 6’10”, clearly was taller than the average human, which gave some people the impression that something was off about him. Either way, easing into a seat at the tavern’s bar, the unfolded paper was placed on the bar top as Ford ordered himself a drink. Nothing too special, just something to help him think because recent conversations had brought up a great many things for him to think over. When his drink arrived, Ford offered a polite smile and paid for his drink. There were no plans for it to be an extended stay. He had to get back. He had just needed a moment’s respite before continuing.
Picking up the piece of paper, he leaned forward, elbows on the bar as the man’s muscular build strained against the white collared shirt he was wearing, with a navy-blue tie, which saw the shirt tucked into a pair of tan-colored slacks and black leather boots. Whatever had been on that paper earned a smirk from the male as he turned it one way, then the other. And for anyone who had been close enough during the time he’d had the paper more visible, they would see that it was some kind of design for a piece of jewelry. A ring of sorts that had some form of script that not many would be able to read, not unless they knew the very specific region and the very specific people the language came from.
Giving a single chuckle, the paper was pulled up and folded back into its smaller square and slipped into one of the pockets in his pants. Ford was close to finding someone who could make it for him, and it would just need to take someone with enough skill to do it the way he had wanted for it to be as perfect as he needed it to be. It would not work for its intended purpose if one thing was off about it.
Lifting his drink to his lips, he took a moment to glance around the tavern. Always curious, always interested, Ford was in fact, a die-hard people watcher. Something about it was cathartic and brought him relaxation. Relaxation was easy for him to come by at home or in someone’s particular presence, but out and about, where he could watch how others interacted, that was a gold mine for him.