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View character profile for: Petlondail
Not to Waste
A guard walked the halls of the Grand Arcanum, the repository for arcane knowledge gathered from throughout the lands.
He held his post with pride, twenty two years of service and no mishaps to account.
In the hours after midnight, his job was easy, all were asleep in their beds and the grand city of Petlondail rested, all except it's stalwart defenders.
Lost in momentary grandeur, he almost missed movement from down the hall. No light, but a shadow in the moonlight shifted through the ancient tomes.
Unsheathing a short sword, he grumbled to himself, though secretly he was excited about the possible action.
Silently stalking through the library, he constantly saw the shade out of the corner of his eye, always ahead of him. He chased it throughout the building, his frustration growing into fury.
At last he had his chance, the morning sun beginning to ascend. The guard rushed around a corner, certain that his quarry had remained in the aisle, but was dumbfounded as the first rays of light revealed an empty library.
A robin flew through the streets, weaving through the waking city in search of seclusion. Finding a proper alley, mist enveloped it to reveal a man, gasping for breath after a night of shifting through the darkness. Leaning against the smooth wall, he pulled an amulet from his pocket and recited a spell.
"Is your task complete?"
"Yes my Lord, your gifts aided in its success."
Holding the gem to his forehead, the Shade winced as his memory was searched, his patron god finding the information needed.
"Very good, continue basic surveillance until the others have arrived."
Nodding in consent, he his the gem once more and looked about him. No one here knew his true form, so he simply exited the alley and vanished into the growing crowd.