Ceylas was chasing butterflies in a field at the end of the street when Cambrin and I emerged from the herbalist shop. She saw the hat in my hands as we approached and immediately skipped across the long grass to join us. “So?” she asked, reaching her hand out for the hat.

Cambrin smiled at her. “We have two more things to identify and I want to make you a deal,” he said.

Ceylas lifted her gaze to look at him suspiciously. She tilted her head and pouted her lips.

Cambrin raised his hands. “It’s nothing sinister, I swear. I just want us to spend the time it will take, and perhaps a few minutes longer, at the Book Baron Tavern.”

Ceylas groaned. “I can never get you out of there!”

“I promise we won’t stay too long. An hour, two at most,” he said.

“Two hours?” I asked, turning to him. “Why would you need so much time?”

“I imagine we may choose to attune to these items before we venture back into the sewer,” he admitted. “Come, let us walk and talk.” He turned, leading us back the way we’d come. Ceylas and I quickly stepped up beside him so we could talk as we walked. “This hat is actually quite an exceptional item. It is monikered the ‘Hat of Disguise’ which is a rather literal name as it allowes the wearer to cast disguise self at will.”

“Wow!” Ceylas whispered, running her fingers over the edges of the hat. “I almost took that ability when I levelled up but it wasn’t quite as good as one I chose instead.” She smiled, positioning the hat on top of her head. “Now I get both.”

I chuckled. “You’re not even going to consider that Cambrin or I might have more need of that item than you?”

She fixed me with a look. “Of course not. You get dibs on the giant banjo.”

I frowned and Cambrin said, “It’s a cittern. I’ll look at that next.”

We reached the front door of the Book Baron Tavern and Cambrin pushed it open and stepped inside. The smell of parchment and wax lingered in the air. It was a heady sent but the smell of a rich chicken broth almost overpowered it. It hadn’t been all that long since breakfast but the smell was fooling my brain into assuming I was hungry.

Cambrin waved at an elderly man who sat behind the counter, nose buried in a book. He’d glanced over the pages with his spectacled eyes as the bell above the door jingled. At Cambrin’s wave he lifted a hand in return, then picked up an embroidered piece of fabric, tucking it into the pages of his book before putting the leather-bound tome aside and rising to his feet.

As he stood I was surprised to see him come to his full height. He was easily over eight feet tall. I remembered that Cambrin had said he was a goliath and I well believed it now I’d laid eyes on him. His grey hair and lengthy, bushy beard hung down his chest which was arrayed in a collection of metalic neckaces and chains and baubles. Despite the warmth of the day and the steaming pot on the stove, he wore a heavy coat, lined in fur. He wove his way around the long counter and his booted feet clumped across the polished wooden floorboards toward us.

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“Ah, Cambrin,” he bellowed, his voice deep but jovial. “Come to bless my books with your patronage again I see.”

“Actually, I may not have the opportunity but I did think you’d not mind if my companions and I took an ale while I worked on a small project.”

He chuffed with a belly laugh then responded, “Not at all, not at all. Your usual table is free. The lunch regulars aren’t due for another couple of hours but the broth is ready if you’re feeling at all peckish.” He glanced at Ceylas then turned a curious gaze on me. “Ceylas, I’ve a glass of your favourite wine, but I don’t believe I’ve met your friend.”

Cambrin spoke first, making the introductions, “Jovial Jennings, this is our friend Lo’Kryn. Lo’Kryn, meet the esteemed Jovial Jennings, proprietor of the Book Baron Tavern.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Jovial reached a hand to me, it was easily double the size of my own and I tentitively returned the handshake. Despite his size he was surprisingly gentle, his hand warm and just a little roughened by years of use. “Well met, Mr Jennings,” I said, feeling oddly tentative and unsure how to address the looming man.

He chuckled again. “Names Jovial, although some simply call me the Book Baron. Now,” he added, pulling a seat for Ceylas, “that’s not a title mind you. I’ve never even met a noble let alone been one.”

“So how did you come by the name?” I asked, taking a seat at the table he was showing us to. I pulled my haversack off my shoulder, tucking it on the bench seat beside me and unlatching the main compartment.

“Heh! Actually, that’s a funny story but it’s long in the telling. Let us just say that a long time ago I travelled with a group of companions who took to calling me the baron when in company because I could play the part well enough to score us free meals and drinks in most establishments across Essaedris.”

“So you’ve travelled extensively?”

He nodded. “I have, but that was many, many years ago. I’ve been here in Talazen longer now than I was ever on the roads with my friends, the Gods rest their souls.” A shadow of grief crossed his features and I remembered what Cambrin had said about the Book Baron’s claims to age.

“Lo’Kryn?” Cambrin nudged, gesturing to my haversack. “Will you pass me the cittern?”

“Of course,” I said, drawing the instrument and passing it across the table to where he’d already set up his tools. I also reached across to pass him the pouch of owl feathers.

“Ah, magics! Don’t let me disturb you, but I’ll return shortly with drinks.” Jovial said. “Ale do you?” he asked me. I nodded and he lumbered back behind the bar.

I looked around as Cambrin began the ritual again. The pearl had completely returned to the vibrant white it had been when we first saw it, seemingly untarnished by its earlier use. Ceylas kept her fingers stroking the soft leather of the hat on her head as she closed her eyes to concentrate on creating an affinity with the item. Beyond them both were shelves and shelves of books and tables. Only a handful of other patrons sat in the tavern. They’d glanced our way as we came in and one watched Cambrin with curiosity but otherwise took no interest in us as they wallowed over their alcohol or broke their fast on the steaming stew.

After a few minutes Jovial returned, putting two mugs and a glass of red wine before us. Cambrin and Ceylas were both too distracted to notice so I offered thanks on their behalf. “You have books here, Baron?” I asked, although I guess given I could see them clearly it was a wasted question.

“Yes, yes. Books to read as you dine. Some you could borrow or buy. I’ve built my collection over many, many decades now.”

“What sorts of books do you have?”

He pulled up a sturdy chair from a nearby table and sat with us, clearly settling into the subject. “Well, Lo’Kryn. That’s question leads to a complicated answer as it’s quite the varied collection. Some are not to my personal taste at all but I cater to a diverse mix of patrons and like to have something for everyone. What suits your own fancy? Perhaps I could select something that would engage you.”

I thought about the LitRPG books I’d been reading at home. I’d recently finished listening to the first five audiobooks of the Dungeon Crawler Carl series and was now just five hours short of the end of Mark of the Fool. It seemed almost comical to think those sorts of books might exist in this place. Besides, I wasn’t sure I’d have much time to read for pleasure, but there were things of this world I wanted to know more about.

“Actually,” I said, considering the delimma my friends and I faced, “do you have anything about the Pantheon of Balance?”

“The pantheons! Ah, a Godly sort? Or just curious?”

“Just curious really. I know next to nothing about the gods.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t sought out that kind of information from the Rise. Surely your access there would grant you more than I might possibly have on my shelves.”

“To be honest, I haven’t looked there yet. It’s only a recent interest. Do you have anything?”

He lifted a hand to stroke his beard, his eyes rising toward the ceiling as he considered the extent of his collection. “Well, I do have something that might suit you. One moment and I’ll find it.” His big belly bumped the table slightly as he pushed himself back to his feet. He crossed to a set of shelves across the room over my left shoulder and lumbered up the steps to reach the risen platform back there. He began running his gaze across the books, walking a short way along the shelves then crouching slightly before exclaiming, “Ah ha!” He drew a small bound book that had been died red and tied with a silver cord. He brought the book over to me and placed it on the table before me. “This will suit, until you can find more detailed information in the Palladium Rise.”

I glanced at the title. “The Sanctity of Balance: The rise of Arawyn, Avanlugh, and Melvanis in righting the world.” It wasn’t a particularly thick book but it looked like it could be a great place to start.

“How much?” I asked.

Jovial shook his head. “No charge, friend. First is always free. But do feel free to return it should you no longer need it. Books are blessed most when they’ve the opportunity to enlighten a miriad of minds over time.”

“My thanks, Jovial. I appreciate it.”

I sipped the ale which was thick, dark, and only slightly frothed. “Now that,” he said, gesturing to the mug, “will set you back two copper.”

I flushed, reaching a hand into my vest pocket and drawing the coin from my almost empty pouch. I’d have to have words with Ceylas about balancing our budgets, particularly if we intended to share the boons of our blessings amongst each other.