It was dark when master Irion left the Temple Church. His back bent from age, he held a walking stick in one hand and a brown leather briefcase in the other. He shuffled away awkwardly from the church, swaying from side to side like a penguin. He was the living embodiment of the wizard archetype. Dark blue robes with astrological motifs and patterns embossed on them in gold, a wide–brimmed hat shaped like a mushroom head, long white beard... he was a wizard, and he looked the part. Except the briefcase.
Oh, and the silver watch on his left hand. He looked at it now to see what the time was. He entered the vault and worked on his papers when it was still daytime outside. He thought he'd only be there for a bit, then go and get lunch. He must've gotten carried away again.
Yes, more carried away than ever. Because it wasn't nighttime anymore, it was almost daytime. Five o'clock in the morning! Now that he thought about it, he was becoming quite scatterbrained in his old age. Oh dear.