Early evening sunlight streamed in through an upstairs window of the Hung, Drawn & Cordial. The half-elf with the elven face was adjusting one of the shoulder straps of a spaulder, frowning at the gouges and tears that marred the leather’s surface. Across the room, a pale gnome was hunched over a open tome, quill scratching away, excitedly. The half-elf finished tying together the damaged armour piece, and gestured casually at the writer.
‘Have your forgotten what happened the last time you messed with spells?’
The gnome raised an eyebrow, but his gaze remained fixed on the page. ‘I have not. However, this is not my spellbook. It’s my journal.’
‘Journal? Didn’t know you kept one. What does it say about me?’
The gnome stopped writing and sat up, then cleared his throat. He began to read aloud from the page…
‘Where he’d go?’
‘Who?’
‘That tall, elegant gnome! He was stood over there, in the corner.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t imagine him?’
That’s the thing with illusions. They’re powerful, but they need to be believable. Believable enough to convince those looking upon them that there was, in-fact, a tall, elegant gnome in the corner; or perhaps a demon clawing itself from some fiery pit, or even a group of serious looking knights on horseback, for that matter.
Although its not just about the visual element, I would argue that what is seen is certainly four fifths of the battle. Sounds and temperature and vibration – they play their part, making those visuals feel more solid, real and grounded. It’s all about making the illusion belong in the conciousness of the ‘see-er’ (as i like to call them). They could be overtly aggressive (the aforementioned demon, for example), defensive (I wouldn’t want to mess with those knights) or beautifully simplistic (say, a closed door where there is, in reality, an open one). But believability is the key factor. Believable, real, convincing.
But believable is not the same as realistic. I’ve discovered that sometimes the most unlikely creation is the most likely image to be believed. And that the sort of conjured normality that arouses no suspicion is trickier than you might think.
An illusion is a distortion of what the senses strive to perceive. Sight is the easiest one to manipulate, as it often overrides our other ‘weaker’ senses like hearing or smell. Touch (or the sensation of touch at least) is more difficult. I’ve a few ideas on that, but the hardest one is time – its passing and perception thereof. Can an illusion distort time itself? I’ve yet to discover this.
I am but an apprentice of the illusionist’s art, and so far I’ve been lucky. I’ve convinced more often than I haven’t. But the world is a big place and there are many things I’ve not seen. But, then again, do I need to see them? An illusionist just has to imagine.
And make you believe, of course.
Now where did that tall elegant gnome go?
‘Huh.’ The half-elf shrugged. ‘You know they don’t work on me right? I can see in ways others can’t.’
‘Why would I want to use them on you?’
‘Don’t worry, Felrick. I wasn’t threatening you.’ The half-elf gave the gnome a reassuring punch on the shoulder. Or would have done. His fist met nothing but air.
There was no gnome. No quill. No books. No desk.
The half-elf turned to see that the door was open. He hadn’t heard the click of the latch, or the creak of the hinge.
The gnome in the hallway smiled, smugly. ‘I’ll buy you an ale.’
‘I believe you will,’ said the half-elf.
Main words by SM
Legends & Misadventure 