The Written Word

[font=Arial, serif][font=Arial, serif]His cross with the rather tall lady aside, Ruth made his way towards the building mentioned by his contact. Blue hues narrowed the outside, this was not his usual haunt and honestly the elf was begrudged to hand it over to someone unknown to him. The rare set of poems sat deep in his satchel, another missing volume that he had transcribed by hand for his own records some days before. He was going to require another bookcase eventually, but first a suitable residence, even if temporary, was required. The Bear and Badger was cosy enough, but true privacy for his own thoughts were only allowed on the road or in one’s own home and he had not long returned from his latest excursion. [/font][/font]

[font=Arial, serif][font=Arial, serif]Perhaps he should ask the Stoner… No. She would spoil being able to take whatever dalliance he had on his arm at any given moment. They would all think her his wife and Ruth’s stomach threatened to rebel at the notion. Megara was neither his type, nor would ever entertain him in that way, but she did cultivate the strongest elfroot tobacco he'd ever encountered. She's good for something, if merely getting hashed off his face. [/font][/font]

[font=Arial, serif][font=Arial, serif]Releasing a tired sigh, he pressed on, pushing the door aside. After a cursory glance around, he’d casually saunter in, thumb tracing along shelves of various authors towards a large desk. [/font][/font]

[font=Arial, serif][font=Arial, serif]"Helloooo, I was told you buy rare books." [/font][/font]