As the hooded man slipped out of the building into the night, Percival de Montfort closed the door to his room, unwrapped the battered leather tome and read the title on the cover, "Summons of the Dark Planes." He gasped. This was better than he could have hoped for.
It had been a big decision to pay the equivalent of three months rent to the man in the hood. They'd met in the tavern last week where a drunken Percy was complaining that he was still searching for a truly impressive spell to perform at his interview with the Mage Graduate Approval Council. If the Council agreed that he had finished his training, they'd give him the phoenix-winged badge of a fully-trained mage. The hooded man said that he could get hold of some good spells, for a price.
The book was held fast with an ornate clasp. Percy pulled at the clasp and dropped the book as a green flame engulfed it. A cracked voice boomed out, "Enter here only the strongest of mind." The young mage shrugged, retrieved the book and