Robin took a deep breath, the scent of parchment, leather, and ink an intoxicating mix in the air around him. He was deep within the library stacks—the ones that anyone could access at least—searching for yet another translation of the text he needed to copy for his forgery. He’d found two, but he wanted a third to give him some more variety.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Who would have thought that he’d be making such extensive use of his academic skills? Here, on a new world no less? And to create a forgery of all things.

Ruprecht would deliver the physical components he’d need any day now. Robin had placed the samples in the designated drop zone and left Rerebos to spy on the location. The little dragon had seen a heavily cloaked figure retrieve them, but hadn’t managed to follow. Invisibility or perhaps a low-level teleportation effect allowed whoever it was to blip out of sight and leave Rerebos hissing his frustration to the dark.

At least it had confirmed Ruprecht was using an agent that could both move between the dungeon and Noviel and that that entity was capable of assuming bipedal form. Robin wasn’t going to assume it was your average individual, not with how many shapeshifters had inhabited Ruprecht’s dungeon.

His hair fell into his eyes again and Robin irritatedly brushed it away. He was wearing a completely different form and face from his usual guises, and he still wasn’t used to the form. Though, searching through the stacks, he did appreciate the extra height.

Well, except for the time he’d smacked his head on the various signs hanging from the ceiling and projecting out from the ends of the stacks.

His current form was sylvariel, a people somewhat related to elves or dryads. In any case, he was tall, willowy, and had a great cascade of pale green hair. No one would recognise him, and there were enough strangers always consulting the library that he’d draw no notice.

Or that had been the plan, at least.

‘Oh! Hello!’

The voice caught his attention and his ear. He noted that it was a language new to him, before almost automatically replying in the same tongue.

‘Hello.’ Robin turned.

It was one of the junior librarians. Possibly the one that had glared at him the time Terlene nearly caused a scene. Robin usually had a solid head for remembering faces, but Terlene had been rather a large distraction at the time.

‘Can I assist you grasp your thing?’

Robin blinked.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Can I help you find anything?’ This time the librarian repeated herself in tradescant, the common tongue of the land. ‘Sorry. My Tres-Pach is not as strong as I would like.’

‘Ah! Of course. My apologies.’ Robin smiled even as his heart jerked.

The woman knew the language of these people! Which meant she had likely studied their culture and customs as well. This was not good. Best get rid of her as fast as he could.

‘I believe I have found all I require. Thank you.’ Robin gestured with the scroll in his hand. It wasn’t exactly what he was after, though it did mention Tarin-Tiran and describe the city, its dungeon, and its environs.

Unfortunately, instead of taking it as a polite dismissal, the librarian’s eyes lit up.

‘Ah! You are studying Tarin-Tiran? Fascinating place. It figures heavily in the work our Head Librarian is doing at the moment, actually.’

‘Indeed?’ Robin did his best to maintain a disinterested tone. He had to get away from this conversation. It was dangerous.

And yet this librarian knew a bit more about what the Head Librarian was researching. That could be useful knowledge. Risk versus reward.

‘What sources has he been consulting? It is a minor part of my own quest for knowledge, but one never knows where the paths through the Forest of Knowledge will lead.’ Robin fished for some more information and probably committed incidental racial offence in the process.

A strange look did flitter across the librarian’s features but she carefully masked it with a polite smile. And her interest in talking about the subject must have outweighed any oddness because she continued.

‘Oh yes. The ruins are a fascinating treasure trove of ancient knowledge, though the dungeon there is particularly territorial and dangerous, making retrieving that knowledge difficult. As I’m sure you already know from your own research.’

The librarian coloured slightly. Robin chose to simply incline his head politely. She relaxed slightly.

Hmm. Something she said must have given cultural offence, but for the life of him Robin didn’t know what. His [Bardic Lore] and [Shard of the Manymind] were coming up empty. He didn’t have time to consider things further, however, as the librarian was still talking.

‘The sources we do have that tell us of the original inhabitants of the city are few and far between, and many are translations of translations. Even oracular insight has been rare. It’s as if the gods themselves do not wish us to pry into matters of Tarin-Tiran and their lost order of illusionists.’

Illusionists? Robin perked up. Now that was interesting. No wonder his quest was pointing him at the Head Librarian and Tarin-Tiran.

‘I had not realised there was a culture of illusions within Tarin-Tiran. Though my research has not been so in depth as that of your own eminent Head Librarian, of course.’

The librarian preened at that.

‘Oh yes. Pretaerus Vinces wrote extensively on the evidence. Are you familiar?’ The librarian barely took a breath to note Robin’s nod of negation before carrying on. ‘And of course there’s the circumstantial evidence, like the preponderance of illusions involved in the dungeon’s premises, natural mirage formations in the region, and—’.

Tarin-Tiran was sounding more and more interesting. Dangerous, but then, high risk meant high reward, right? Robin made a mental note to expand his research in the library. In fact, since the librarian was already discussing the topic…

‘Is there perhaps a map of this Tarin-Tiran?’ he asked. ‘So I may better visualise what you are referencing?’

‘Of course!’

She led him to another section of the library. Unfortunately it wasn’t in a more restricted section of the stacks. That would have been too convenient.

The librarian began pulling maps and charts, explaining the general region around Tarin-Tiran and talking excitedly about the sorts of monsters and challenges that various adventuring parties had reported in the region. Robin was surprised at the level of detail afforded by the bird’s-eye views. It made one think that perhaps cartographers in this land were frequently also skilled with magics or items that allowed them to fly. The charts were remarkable.

Or maybe that was just his prejudice talking, assumption made about societies without technology, forgetting that magic could supply many of the same advantages.

There was even a map detailing the ruined upper level of the city nearest to Noviel. The city apparently had many layers, and wrapped around the edge of the continent. The views one must have from the edge!

‘The dungeon doesn’t begin for the first three layers or so, though there are plenty of dangerous creatures that make their home in the ruins. Some artefacts have been recovered, but as best we can tell, much of the nobility and organisations like the library and the various churches of the time would have been located deeper within the city structure. The Head Librarian thinks this is perhaps because the culture grew out from the caves.’

Robin had found that first shrine to Rhyth in a cave. Not that the fact necessarily meant anything. Still, his heart quickened for some reason.

He began to gently try to steer the lecture the librarian was giving, asking leading questions to attempt to find out more about the Head Librarian’s research, adventurers from Noviel who had been to Tarin-Tiran, and more about the supposed illusion-focus that the original culture there had had.

The librarian was more than happy to chatter away and was engrossed in her lecture to the point that she didn’t notice or ignored any cultural gaffes Robin might have committed with his borrowed face.

It was easy to see why the mystery of Tarin-Tiran was compelling. In a world where divination and magic allowed one to find many more answers than was possible in his own world, mysteries like this were more of a challenge.

There was something in the ruins that warded the place against weak divinations. Possibly intentional, possibly a quirk of the location. There was the dungeon that drove off all but those researchers able to pay for adventurers to accompany them. Even many deities seemed opposed to delving too deeply into those ruins.

That last one was a surprise to Robin. He still wasn’t used to deification figures taking such an active hand in events. But apparently they did. Divine powers talked to their followers and favourites all the time.

He was not surprised to discover that Urkhan was firmly opposed to people exploring Tarin-Tiran, though he suspected the ban did not apply to Urkhan’s own priests. Gis, the one-eyed old serpent, had probably been there. Or someone like him had.

Robin needed to check out this Tarin-Tiran himself, if he could assemble or attach himself to the right crew. No. Focus. This wasn’t what he was here for. He needed to find that translation and end this interaction before something went wrong.

Although…he had a librarian here already, didn’t he? He was already playing with fire just talking out here in this borrowed face whose culture she knew too much about. Might as well push his luck a bit. Maybe he could get some useful information from her that would help with his current quest.

‘What did you say the title of the work the Head Librarian was currently focused on was?’ Robin’s question was off-the-cuff, casual. The librarian had mentioned no such thing, but the bard was willing to gamble she’d covered enough ground that she wouldn’t realise.

‘There are many translations,’ the librarian replied automatically. ‘Most of them are deeper in the stacks.’ She gave an apologetic smile, thin and watery and not at all remorseful. ‘But there are four I can think of that are accessible here on this level.’

She listed off the locations. Robin suppressed a surge of excitement. He’d only known of one other. This meant he’d have four to work with, instead of three. That’d make the forgery a bit stronger, hopefully.

‘I look forward to reading them. And I hope we will meet again for another fruitful discussion in the near future.’ Robin smiled and inclined his head politely, trying to end the interaction.

He still had a forgery to execute, after all.