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As one would expect, the library is full of shelves. The smell of parchment
fills the air, along with the musky smell of old dust and the bitter tang of
oak-gall ink. The room is in a complete mess. The rolls of parchment are jumbled together on the shelves in no apparent order, and most horizontal surfaces (including the floor) have further stacks of vellum and the occasional book. A sound of snoring emanates from behind one of the piles of books on the main table. It stops at the sound of footsteps, and a sleep-weary voice says "I'll be with you shortly. Just a few more minute's rest..." |