As the rest settle in for the evening, Maeglin settles in to trance, and study his spells anew. His usual spells of misdirection and charm do not seem as useful in a lair of cultists as they are around a gaming table.
Looking over his spellbook, he flips to the spells he normally avoided, and selects the following:
1st
Sleep
Magic Missile
2nd
Mirror Image
The signs and glyphs from his notes and writing settle into his mind while he meditates, and soon he feels their power itching at the side of his head. The urge to scratch is strong, but experience has shown that scratching is useless. The Shield spell looked good, but hopefully he would be able to keep those with real armor and weapons between himself and those with sharp and pointy things in their angry hands.
"Like you, I do not sleep, but please do not disturb me until it is my turn to watch, or until morning," says Maeglin to Anadrea. When the elf woman nods, he closes his eyes and allows his mind to enter the space between spaces known only to elves.