Endymion struggled to walk as the pain from his broken arm and headache was getting unbearable. He wished he had some kind of medical herbs on hand, but the full contents of his satchel amounted to a bunch of golden coins, a knife and a “magic potion” which was basically concentrated caffeine.

Plus, there was something strange about the hallways he was crossing. For one, many of the angles between the walls appeared different depending on which direction he faced them from. There was also nobody to be seen or heard anywhere, although he could feel something was watching him.

He had to get out as soon as possible. He could send a signal to his companions, informing them of his location; unfortunately, such a signal tended to attract unwanted attention, and in a place like this, it would be a death sentence. There had to be another way.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that only when he clumsily bumped his knee into a bookshelf did he realise he had somehow walked in a colossal library. It would be full of forgotten knowledge and powerful spells, no doubt.

Endymion was surrounded on all sides by irregularly shaped shelves filled with dark grimoires, only waiting to be read. He felt like the first time he had set foot in the Collegia library. His friend would wait, he decided, as he started browsing the shelves, looking for dark secrets and forbidden spells.

Oh, and something to help him get out of there too. Later.

The paladin had been conversing with the elf on their journey back to the tavern, but she made it clear that it wasn’t in her power to get them access to the Magus Collegia library.

At a loss, Ashla finally fell silent. She rubbed her bruised hip and ruminated. Some thought made her stare at the thief. When he noticed, she frowned. “Have you ever had contact with the Changing Lands before, Bones? Of a paladin and a magic user, that monster seemed most interested in you. Why?”

Bones couldn’t get the image of the creepy tentacle thing out of his head. He’d been lucky the torch had lit. No telling what kind of awful fate he’d managed to avoid, or that was befalling Endymion right now. One thing was for sure, sacred missions sucked.

He noticed Ashla staring and raised an eyebrow, earning him a frown. Her question was a valid one, but it wasn’t like he had an answer. He smiled anyway. “Clearly it was stunned by my amazing and manly show of bravery.” Bones made a show of flexing his complete lack of muscles. “Or, you know, he just didn’t take kindly to being hit with rocks.”

Bones sighed and shrugged. “Honestly, my mind’s been a little preoccupied with finding Endymion.” He crossed his arms and stared up, thinking aloud. “We need info from this library place to get him, right? But we can’t get in without him. Conundrum. Only, who says we have to use the front door?” He tilted his head to glance back at Ashla, grinning. “I mean, fighting and stuff we have established is not my strength. But stealing…” Bones shrugged. “I mean sure, there’ll probably be magicy doodads and stuff” He wiggled his hand dismissively. “But why not? Paragons of our orders, right? How hard can it be?”

The description of his unquestionable bravery managed to make Ashla laugh, but her smile faded as he started to suggest criminal behavior. “Wait, wait, wait. We can’t just…break in!”

The paladin lowered her voice in a horrified whisper. “The Magus Collegia isn’t known to take kindly to intruders. And if those intruders include the representatives of the Paladins of Kron and…and the Thieves Guild?” Ashla shook her head grimly. “We’re meant to be doing our orders proud by our actions, not shaming them!”

Bones snorted. “Uh, last I checked, stealing something valuable from a bunch of smelly farts is, like, the definition of doing my order proud.” He sighed. “I guess…hmm…” Bones wiggled back and forth, thinking.

Magic library. Magic library He scrunched his face up and blew a raspberry. “Bah! Ok, what about this? Remember the old guy?” He turned to look at the elf. “The not-so-half-dragon guy you totally left Ashla to fight? He did a…” Bones made a flailing hand gesture. “You know. Thing. Magic thing. Maybe we find him? Get in that way?”

He had finally found it. It had taken him hours - or perhaps days, time was erratic in the Changing Lands - but it was finally in his hands. The Necronomicon, the ultimate grimoire, containing the darkest secrets and the most dangerous spells.

His joy was short-lived, however, as his legs failed him and he collapsed on the ground before he could read even a page. The pain came back to him, more intense than ever before, and he felt like he was fainting.

Not yet. Not like this.

Endymion scrawled several runes in blood on the ground with all the strength he had left, creating a beacon for his allies to find him. His enemies would see it too, but hopefully the former would get to him first.

He managed to finish the rune and activate it, and passed out a few seconds later, clutching the grimoire in his bloody hands.