The Library's Secrets

[ImStrokerAce]

The various libraries sparsely scattered throughout the Temple of Sune were most ignored, perhaps if one was to suggest that the peak of one’s bicep could be enhanced by lifting tomes, they would see far more use. Be that as it may; there was at least one interested party in such scholarly endeavors, and he had taken to organizing and cataloging the oft ignored volumes. The sheer amount of lude or suggestive works had required that the largest shelves bore the brunt of that particular field of interest. This of course required much shuffling and reorganizing, but the constructs carried out their simple commands without complaint. Such orders included to leave any fragile tomes untouched, and that is what brings us to this tale…
The tattered and aged volume sat quietly alone on the shelf; the rest picked bare by the elementally powered automations. It wasn’t a particularly extravagant work, a rather plain brown leather cover without a marking and a sizable collection of yellowed pages contained within. The pale and practiced hands coddled the aged book over to a nearby table, ever-so-gently centring it exactly in the middle of the table. One had to approach forgotten tomes with a degree of caution; foremost was the damage one was capable of delivering to the book, the other was what it could deliver on you. A quick cantrip was all that was required to see that this was one of the latter. The almost blinding aura of a powerful Evocation was laid on these works, a glyph set to fatally smash and crush the offender with a giant and spectral Fist. Plucking at the strands of the glyph and the promise of death it carried, unveiled a means to deactivate without becoming the victim of a spectral fisting, a path that was steep and completely unforgiving to errors.
There are moments in time that will find and define you; when one’s abilities, focus and intent are the crucial factors in maintaining your time on this Plane of existence. For the socially awkward and fastidious scholar that was ever-so-carefully attempting to dispel deadly wards, this was one of those moments. The propagating tone was a herald of his success, as the Evocative energies dispersing gave way to the secrets lurking inside the otherwise ordinary tome. With a release of a breath, he didn’t know he was holding, the cover was opened, and the name of the author and attempted murderer was brought forth; Alasharious the… Meek? The absurdity of the misnomer reached the corner of his mouth in the form of an amused smile, the deadly irony surely amusing even the most detached of participants.
Onward he delved into the memoirs and journal of this meek fellow lost to the ages; his innermost thoughts, feelings and… a convoluted means of accessing his inner sanctum; the details of which carefully laid out. Well; time to gather some material components…