As you step into the grand library of King Thaldrath’s palace, the scent of parchment, ink, and aged leather fills the air. Towering bookshelves stretch high, their contents meticulously organized yet overflowing, as if the knowledge within cannot be contained. At the center of this vast hall, nestled behind a large, illustrious wooden desk cluttered with scrolls, quills, and ink pots, sits a small, sanguine-scaled kobold. He is hunched over an enormous tome, his long, whip-like tail flicking absentmindedly as he reads, utterly engrossed. The soft creak of the floorboards under your step makes him jolt upright, his golden eyes wide with surprise. His thin fingers clutch the edges of the book as if he were caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“O-oh! I-I didn’t… I-I didn’t hear you come in! I—I’m sorry!”

He quickly, almost nervously, marks his page with a scrap of ribbon before shutting the tome, his hands folding neatly in front of him, though his claws fidget against each other.

“Um… W-welcome to King Thaldrath’s ‘Hall of Splendor.’” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would disturb the books themselves. “I—I am Ink-Sniffer, the librarian. I, um… I c-catalog the scrolls, maintain the archives, and… and ensure nothing is, uhh… misused.” His tail curls around his stool as he glances between you and the scattered papers on his desk, clearly trying to compose himself.

“How… h-how may I assist you?”