The  fair silver-haired maid spares Demilich a slim, knowing smile, a subtle tilt of her lovely lips--perchance she isn't the first creature who has endeavored to enter Elminster's tower ethereally?<br/><br/>"Usually, Lhaeo keeps the door unlocked, unless he's stopped off at the Old Skull for his midday meal." Indeed, the door opens wide at the slightest telekinetic exertion. Beyond--a slightly dusty albeit cozy office. A single chair of meticulously crafted wooded chair with forest green leather upholstery sits beside one wall should any guest want to rest a spell--this chair, the desk, and the table behind it all have the marks of halfling carpentry and look to be old, perhaps older than many of the fiends who seek to destroy the aged Sage. A handsome man in his middle years, with a princely demeanor--though he is in the ink stained raiment of a scribe, sits before the desk. Beside him a thick barrel filled with folded parchment.<br/><br/>Across his desk are, easily, some one and one hundred other scraps and rolls of parchment. He seems intent upon whatever he is writing or copying and does not look up when Demilich enters.