No Magic Allowed

As the parties are called forward, Bead, attempts to cast Mage Hand to lift the Gem of Seeing he has tucked beneath his jerkin. A wonderful magic item, a gem-like lense, ringed in gold, affixed to a mithral chain neckla... “wait, what!?” His spell fails.

After a moment of brief confusion, he looks around and notices glowing arcane letters written on the wall, which too is outlined in magic glowing energy. The glow soon fades and the old elf, Oakleaf looks up at him and chuckles. Bead should have known, but it was second nature for him to use his Mage Hand. He grins, closes his eyes, and nods in realization and mild embarrassment.

Not long after, some of the parties leave the room and Racheln enters. Bead waits his turn to greet her.

“Archmage, you say? Greetings, Bead Boarmount, Guardian of Greendell and the Triboar Trail, at your service.

He bows deeply. Bead respects anyone who has earned their status more than anyone who commands it as a birthright.

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