"And so...even the nitwit...in their humble green robe...deserves to be protected with the rest. Everyone in our village, even villages far away....stand against the monsters of the night..." the blocky figured librarian mumbled to themself as they wrote with a long, blue quill.
As they wrote the last line of their latest book, they finished with a curling flourish to the final letter and sat back to admire their work. Calligraphy was its own art and they took pride in it.
Artem the librarian relaxed back in their chair, enjoying the serene atmosphere of their personal library, the light, dusty scent of old books and coolness of the sandstone walls contrasted with the heat and bustle of the village outside. They raised their hand to sign the newly finished book, but was interrupted.
There was a knock on the door to the study.
"Artem, it’s me, heh," a gruff voice greeted.
"Please come in, hmm?" the scribe replied.
A rather formidable figure entered, carrying a lo