A scene from Chapter 31 of Primal Wizardry with a familiar face:
Kole’s unintended sleep was interrupted by a subtle woosh and he opened his eyes to see a young man sprawled on the flood groaning.
“Ow,” the man said as he rose unsteadily to his feet.
He was dressed in light leather armor and and was covered in dirt and blood in various stages of dryness.
Goblin blood by the odor that was newly familiar to Kole.
Kole panicked, but then quickly realized this man was not a part of the student pursuing him.
Mustering his courage, Kole asked “Who are you?”
“Who am I? Who are you? Where am I?” the man answered, now on his feet and looking around the hideout.
His eyes landed on the contents of Kole’s bag which had spilled out on the floor and his demeanor changed. His posture tightened, and he brought his hands up to his waist as if ready to grab something… or cast a spell.
“And where did you get that?” he demanded, pointing to the journal.
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Kole grabbed the journal and clutched it possessively. He wasn’t particularly found of the ratty thing, but he’d already had to recreate his notes in the thing once, and he was loathe to do it again—though, it hadn’t been as difficult as he’d expected to fill the with notes on his lectures thus far from memory.
The man reach his right hand out, palm raised expectantly before looking at his palm in confusion. His eyes briefly lost focus, and then he looked from Kole to the journal and his brow rose in surprise.
“Oh,” he said, mournfully before he collapsed to the ground unconscious.
Worried that it was a trick, Kole turned invisible before approaching. Approach is maybe too strong of a word in the small confines of the corner he was hiding in.
When the stranger didn’t move, Kole kicked him and was rewarded with a painful groan.
“What in Fauell was that for?” the man asked.
“Why are you in my room. Who are you?” Kole demanded again, no longer scared.
The man opened his eyes and looked directly at Kole’s own despite the invisibility.
"I wouldn't call this a room," the man observed
"I wouldn't say you're in a position to be judgmental," Kole retorted, no longer afraid of this interloper.
“Can you get me some water?” he asked.
“No. Who are you? How did you get here?”
“Fair enough,” he laughed and said seemingly to himself. “I suppose I should trust it.”
He continued, looking at Kole once more, “You can call me Theral. What year is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I would like to know what the current year is.”
“836,” Kole answered.
“836 of what calendar?” Theral said, a little exasperated. “AF? Dome? Midlian? Canton? Arbith?”
Looking at him now, Kole realized he was only a handful of years older than himself, though his attitude suggested him to be older still.
“AF,” Kole said, now much more curious than anything he’d been feeling prior.
“Oh, well then I got here via magic.”