Davis brought the brown paper wrapped parcel into his apartment and went searching for a letter opener. Usually not this meticulous, if his guess had been correct the book he'd just gotten shipped to him would be a coup at the Historical Society.
Long relegated to the job of archivist and data entry technician, Davis' degree in ancient languages had gone unused and ignored due to his fascination with the occult studies. His collegues and peers often sneered at his interests, referring to them as "strange", "unimportant" or -worst of all- "Hobbit-like".
The fact that he enjoyed reading fantasy novels, not just Tolkien, had convinced his superiors at the Society that he wasn't professional calibre. In fact, Davis suspected that the only reason he'd kept his job was that no one else really wanted it.
Finding a letter opener at last, the young, brown-haired man broke from his reverie and slid the metal under the parcel's wrapping. Carefully, he slit it open and peeled back the covering to reveal the worn, black leather cover of an ancient, hand-written tome. Embossed with Latin characters, Davis could easily read it.
"The Works of Asgurauld of Domminus".
He'd heard of a little-known philosopher, Asgurauld, in the northern reaches of Italy following the fall of Rome, but little had been written about him during the Dark Ages in which he had lived. Several orders of monks had noted that he was a collector of ancient secrets and information as well as an accomplished wizard. Still, those accounts were rare and often contradictory. In one, for example, Asgurauld was actually a cartographer for an Ostrogothic Lord who had developed a new means of charting coastlines with some sort of new astrolabe...
Hardly the stuff of fantasy and magic!
Still, he'd never run across anything, before, that actually claimed to have been written by the man.
Putting on surgical gloves and a breathing mask, Davis gently opened the cover. The leather was still relatively supple despite its age and numerous small cracks that ran though it. No dust escaped, it having been apparantly read by its previous owner, but -sure enough- there it was... A printed seal of the scarcely known wizard, Asgurauld.
Davis felt elated!
Taking the book to the second bedroom of his apartment, he focussed on reading the forward and a brief synopsis of the contents.
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Dawn broke on Saturday with Davis not having moved an inch. His Latin had never grown rusty yet his progress through the book was slow. Reading someone's handwriting, especially through so many diagrams, drawings, illustrations and sigils, was taxing. As such, he'd only managed to get through the first quarter of the book.
But what a read!
While Asgurauld had, indeed, created an astrolabe variant in the late 900's, he'd been somewhat of a jack of all trades. He'd been an architect, a spice trader, a diplomat and even a gardener. But, and Davis was most pleased of this, he'd spent most of his time unlocking the arcane links between humanity and the rest of the Universe...
Here, in these pages, were thousands of arcane formulae; hundreds of recipes for infusions, potions and dusts; countless spells entailing everything from the basest desires of the darkest soul to incantations promising enlightenment in the ways of cloud formations.
Everything was here.
Cautiously, Davis closed the book.
The previous owner must not have been able to read Latin or he'd never have parted with such a find, he thought. It certainly didn't seem to be a forgery.
But then, Davis wasn't an expert in such things.
Thinking carefully, he began to feel doubt about his purchase. What if it was just a fraud? What if he'd just bid $350 of his hard-earned money on something that was nothing more than an elaborate role-playing game prop?
He had to find out...
Opening the book again, he flipped through looking for something that he could use for absolute authentication. There were so many things written in such small print that it was almost impossible to focus through his sleep-deprived yet anxious state. It was in that haze of thought, though, that he got his idea.
He could try a spell.
Not a big one, certainly, but wasn't that really what was driving him? The search for arcane experience?
He smiled a bit and looked around his converted bedroom-cum-study and chuckled guiltily. He'd had plenty of fantasies, base and otherwise, that he'd always indulged in the privacy of his own bed and home that -maybe- he'd now have the chance to explore. And if it didn't work, well, he'd just re-sell the book!
Smiling fully, he turned his attention back to the tome and began flipping through pages, looking for something to try. Most of the spells required quite a bit of time, odd ingredients or even the right astrological convergence. However, there were a few that only required certain arcane words spoken in a specific cadence, strength and order. They were weak, allegedly, but a few of them would offer Davis the proof he needed.
Carefully, he scanned the pages and finally selected one...