A Strange Patron
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Wordsmith Eric Aunger lacked the conventional charm of a member of his guild. Whether this was a result of some form of disillusionment or something else, nobody could truly say. What they could say was that what he lacked in charisma he made up for in intellect, being one of the smartest of the Wordsmiths in his area of the library. So when Eric spotted something strange, he often didn't leave it alone, as most patrons would do. Instead, he analyzed it.

So when he spotted young MTF agent in the self-help section, his first thought was not, "I should alert a Docent" nor "how did this person get into the library?", it was "Why the self-help section?". Eric had intentionally selected the self-help section as his location because nobody ever came down there. He could sometimes go months without interacting with a patron. Why anybody was down there, let alone a Jailor, was a mystery to him. The Jailor seemed to wander among his shelves, and just as Eric began to wonder if the man was lost, they did something extremely unexpected. They started walking in the direction of Eric's desk. The one he had spent months looking for a good location to hide, so that nobody could bother him with stupid requests.

Taking the shortcut back to his desk, Eric was unsurprised to find the man standing in front of it, looking worse for wear. Taking a seat and greeting him, Eric prepared to be bored by a proposition of alliance, a declaration of war, or some asinine question. So when the man just pulled out a book and asked if he was allowed to take photos of the pages, Eric was silent for a full minute. Sizing him up, Eric noticed several things. First off, while the man was definitely a jailor, he was not an MTF, or if he was, it was noncombative. The man lacked the scars of most agents, instead, carrying the air of a fellow scholar. The second thing he noticed was that the man was clearly missing his left eye, and blood seemed to be continuously pouring forth from his socket. Eric opened up his desk drawer, tossing a roll of gauze to the man. The third thing he noticed was the name of the book.

After photocopying the book, he waved the freshly bandaged man off, picking up "The Necessary Evils Of The Foundation: Dealing with the guilt of 110 Montauk, 42-Humbaba, and other atrocities" and placing it in the pile of books for the Page to return to the shelf. Hesitantly, he picked it back up and considered reading it, but he realized he wanted to be able to eat lunch that day. This was one thing he wouldn't analyze. Looking back up to the spot where the Jailor had stood, he was startled to find another person had snuck up on him and was currently staring at the red stain on the carpet with disgust. This entity, a rather heavyset man, had several veins bulging on his forehead, all of which seemed prepared to pop at any given moment.

With a slight sigh, he pointed the clearly rabid member of the Serpent's Hand in the general direction that the Jailor had gone, throwing in a half-hearted, "He hasn't broken any rules." The large man was a frequent visitor to this part of The Library, one who Eric had developed a slight understanding of.

Merely grunting at him, a noise which Eric had learned meant, "I'm still going to escort him out", the man thundered off, leaving Eric to once again contemplate the book on his desk in silence.

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