The Greed of Berserkers (Rough Draft)

All one could hear when entering the library was the whisper of pages. Not a sound echoed off the carved, cold, black stone walls. There were no records of the original purpose for this facility, only that dwarves had made it before they refused to leave their underground home. Now, as it had been for the past century, it was used to house the collection of knowledge that loaded the enormous dark wood bookshelves that bordered and filled the main chamber. It was one of the few sights that could still take the breath of a seasoned adventurer away at its sheer splendor.

 Usually, the keepers of this hoard spent their solitary days poring over recent additions or restoring old ones in utter silence. A silence that was religiously maintained. The keepers didn’t even flinch as a hooded man quietly made his way to the circular desk that sat in the center of the room. Ropes of various colors hung around it, with wooden tags attached to each one.

 As the man drew closer, he could see that the ropes continued up to the ceiling, where they spider-webbed in some sort of organized chaos. It made little sense to him, but that wasn’t why he was here. He had something they had been waiting so patiently for. At the desk sat a small, wizened man. Glasses perched on his crooked nose precariously as his pale blue eyes dashed across the scroll before him. That same gaze flicked up at this mysterious visitor.

 It wasn’t uncommon for the library to have guests, yet they so rarely could remain quiet for as long as this one had. Peering at the strapping youth, he saw something swirl in his strange violet eyes. Magic. Raw and powerful magic. The librarian had little time to further study the man, not when a powerful and deadly presence swept through the room. All the keepers froze to look up as a beast of night and starlight prowled to the stranger’s side. It chuffed at the two of them before sitting to look at him so expectantly. The intelligence alone that shone in the beast's eyes told him everything he needed to know though the stone embedded in the creature’s forehead told him more. It had been ages since he last saw the Hear-

 A smile from the young man recaptured the old man’s focus. Carefully, he set a bulging and beat up satchel on the desk. As the old man leaned forward in interest, the man flipped it open with barely a sigh. Inside lay eight books, all of varying states of age. The first one alone bore yellowing pages, but the black leather binding marked them as a set. This was what they had been waiting for.

 The Saga of the Sinned.

 Looking up, the old man caught the wistful way the youth looked upon the volumes. Pushing them back, he gestured to an empty desk, inviting. The youth took him up on the offer, to once again read the stories that were held within…