GALE DROPS HIS COFFEE ENTIRELY WHEN HE SEES HIM.
He's grown quite fond of the streets of the Archimedes Ward, and of course as a man of particular ( and distinguished, naturally ) tastes it's only taken a few short weeks to consider himself rather qualified in the way of picking out the best of the area's many cafes. It's not quite a daily routine, but certainly routine enough, walking himself down in the mornings to sit with a book and think. His housing can feel crowded at times. It's nice to step out. Things are relatively quiet, early enough in the day.
And as the morning carries on, the streets wake up. The din of the crowd and the hustle of footsteps is soothing background noise, too, in its own way. Reminds him so terribly much of Waterdeep. And Gale is content with people-watching— to a point, of course, because the moment that bearded visage appears in his peripheral vision he leaps to his feet so suddenly that the mug slips from his hands and shatters.
He steps over the remains of the coffee cup, stunned, and wastes no time in shouldering through the crowd to get to him. Of all the people to see here - familiar faces, even, as more and more of them seem to appear - he never expected—
"How are you here? Why are you here?" The question is on the tip of his tongue - did Mystra send you? Is he here to fetch Gale? He very much doubts she would extend him that much of an olive branch, but then she did give him orders last time he and Elminster spoke ( it feels not very long ago at all ) and might be a little miffed that Gale is here, now, and therefore unable to carry them out. The wizard squints a little, leaning forward. Elminster is very good at what he does, but to one with enough experience there are some tells to every spell. The smell of the Weave, if nothing else. "Either you're getting sloppy or this isn't another simulacrum."
