Mage Tower

When Solam opened his eyes again, he found himself in what looked like a reception room, seated in a genuine leather chair. (Obviously—there was no synthetic leather in Faerûn.) Osvid sat opposite him, with only a small tea table between them, upon which rested two steaming cups of coffee.

In Faerûn, coffee was not a popular drink. In fact, many people could not get used to the stuff, since it was far more bitter than tea. Yet coffee remained highly valuable in Faerûn because mages liked it. Perhaps due to the differences between the two worlds, Faerûnian coffee was completely unlike the coffee from Solam's previous life. It tasted worse, but its effects in refreshing the mind and stimulating the spirit were much stronger. If an ordinary person drank a cup, they could forget about sleeping for the next three days.

But that effect was perfect for mages. Once mages became absorbed in their research, going several days without sleep was entirely normal. Yet no matter how capable a mage was, they were still human, and humans grew tired. Meditation could ease mental fatigue, but it also took time. For mages racing against every second, coffee became the best substitute.

What irked Solam somewhat was that the cup of coffee in front of him had clearly already been drunk from! This was far too insulting. Even a legendary mage could not give someone a drink that another person had already touched!

Though he grumbled inwardly, Solam did not dare show it on his face. The legendary mage before him looked to be in a terrible mood as well, as though someone had angered him. That forced Solam to be cautious. Though he had prepared himself mentally long ago, facing the real person still made him nervous. Who the hell knew