exarobibliologist

It could have started as simply as this: It was dark morning in the town of Foreign Crossings. The sun had not yet fully influenced the night that its time was at an end. The man, based upon his stature and clothing obviously from a wealthy family, walked through the heavy wooden doors of the tavern. The tavern he entered had a signpost hanging above the door that identified the place as the “Trader's Inn”, but everyone in town called the place “The Council”. No one knew who first called the tavern by that name, but it had stuck, and now hardly anyone knew where you wanted to go if you asked for the Trader's Inn. But ask for The Council in...