My first instinct was to go find whatever fell, but remembered that my sense of direction is worse than a compass drawn on paper. I decided on another method. I may be good at a few things, but directions and locating are not anything close. I wouldn’t call myself even a working class man; actually, I’m a homeless nobody. Now I don’t live on the street, mind you, but I do not own any property. My line of work doesn’t pay that well. In fact my line of work doesn’t pay at all.
You see, I’m a magus, not one of those illusionists on TV or those hocus pocus posers you hear about, but the guy that you pass on your way to work and make you feel as if he just looked right through you and into your heart. I don’t do that much, but it helps if someones trying to kill you, or worse. Now, I didn’t chose this line of work, mind you; it chose me. I come from a very “magical” family tree, druids, shamans, wizards, and the like, and found that alot of it is passed down through the genes.