He sure as hells hoped Hrair wasn't going to offer him sailing lessons. The only calluses he had were from writing, and he didn't have much more muscle than was absolutely necessary to remain ambulatory.
It had never really occurred to him to learn practical skills. He was all about theory. The only practical work he did was magecrafting.
"Hey, I'm going to go home and clean your vomit off me. Then I'm going to draw up plans for this blood compass and run it by a few people. Then I'll let you know what materials we need if it seems like something I can actually make. Sound good?"
After shaking hands, he told Hrair whereabouts his place was up near the university so he could ask around and find Hadrian if he got antsy. Then he left him to go to that home and burn the midnight oil designing this big of magic.
END
