The candle flickers slightly as the draught from the open door brushes against it. Malevolus pauses in his reading, his eyes rising from the ancient tome and staring at the stone wall before him, a knot of tension forming in his stomach as he hears the soft tread of the approaching acolyte behind him. ?Archivist Bethemon wishes to speak with you Reader.? The whispered voice of the acolyte seems to boom in the candlelit silence of Malevolus?s study cell. Without further words the acolyte withdraws. Equally silently Malevolus closes the tome. His hands briefly smoothing the bindings made of elven skin before placing the tome on a shelf so packed with books it seems ready to collapse. ?And so I come my lord High Librarian.? The candlelight reflects from the cold grey eyes of the Reader as his mouth curves into a smile.

The throng in the heart of New Brommel gives little attention to the bedraggled human as he weaves his way among them. Clothes mud stained and tattered, his back bent by the weight of his pack. A Saris pauses before him, muzzle dripping rainwater. Heavy armour creaks as the powerfully built creature looks the traveller up and down before dismissing him as of no consequence. The newcomer bites his tongue as the Saris barges their way passed, the scabbard of a long sword roughly scraping his leg but accompanied by no hint of apology. ?Pardon me,? the man says as he grasps the arm of human female. ?I need lodgings. Do you know of an inn where I may rest?? The woman pulls herself free from his grip, for an instant there is a hint of flame about her hands, but then softens her gaze as she sees his desperate state. ?Yes, there is an inn nearby. Down the road there,? She points. ?just follow the signs.? A moments pause and she presses a handful of coppers into the travellers? hand.

A nights rest and the traveller awakes refreshed. Picking a treatise on spellcraft from his pack he dresses and makes his way down the stairs to the common room. The blazing fire is a welcome sight, as is the friendly smile of a woman as she piles perfectly baked pies onto a platter. ?You are awake then, we thought you would sleep for a week when you came in last night.? She moves to the bar. ?A drink and some food to start your day?? ?Water,? The traveller settles by the fire. ?I do not befuddle my mind with the vices of the masses. And chicken, but very lightly cooked.?

And so Malevolus Dark sits at his table. The fire roaring by his side as he picks at his food. Grey eyes never leaving the door. Hoping someone will enter and prove an ally in his journey?.