The wind was howling as water rattled on the roof of the saloon, and Gray stumbled into the room, drenched from head to toe and smiling broadly.

“Oh, we got a live one,” someone said, but Gray paid them no mind as he sauntered up to the bar and started rooting around in the bag at his hip.

“Uh, do you have any rooms available?” he asked as he pulled out a few copper coins.

“We sure do, hun,” the portly, middle aged woman behind the bar said. “Just a single bed?”

“Yes, please,” he said and shook the water out of his hair, heedless of how it splattered on the bar. “Uh, how much for that and a meal?”

“How long you staying?” she asked, and he paused.

“One moment, please,” he said and took out a pair of six sided dice. They clattered down on the bartop as the bartender watched, slightly bemused by his behavior, and he spun around the bag on his back to pull out a book.

“Five times four is… twenty,” he muttered and rolled a single die. “Line three.”

Gray licked a thumb and flicked to page twenty, his dirty finger pulling down the page as he read each line.

“I watched the sun set thrice,” he murmured, and then shot the woman a bright, warm smile that had a startled expression crossing her face. “Three nights, please!”

“That’ll be six copper, then,” she said, and he counted out each copper one by one before pushing them all towards her.

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” he said with a broad smile, and tucked the book back into a bag that was obviously completely stuffed with more of them.

“Well, you’re very welcome, sweetheart,” she said and glanced out at the rattling shutters. “You gotta be careful with these summer monsoons. They’ll sweep you right off your feet. Surprised you made it in.”

“Oh, I found it invigorating,” he said and set down another coin. “But I think I’ll need a bath after that. Surprising amount of dirt in that water.”

“Of course, hun,” she said and swept up the coin. “I’ll have it ready for you after dinner. Here’s your key.”

She passed him the key and he promptly tucked it into his pouch.

“Thank you very much,” he repeated and looked around the bar for somewhere to sit.

“You can take a sit right here with me,” she said and he nodded several times, pulled out the stool, and sat down. The bag hit the ground with a loud thunk, and he smiled through it all as multiple people looked over at the source of the noise.

“Dinner’ll be ready in about ten minutes, okay?” she said and he nodded.

“That’ll be fine,” he said as she turned to pull him a pint. “Oh, just water, please. I took a vow against alcohol.”

“Ah,” she said and paused just as a large man dropped into the seat next to him.

“So you are a Wanderer,” the man said, and Gray looked over at him with a slow blink.

“I’m not sure what that is,” Gray said and the man squinted at him, the scar over his eye flexing.

“One of them people that carries on about books and travels all around causing a ruckus,” the man said, and Gray’s face cleared.

“Oh! You call us Wanderers here!” he said brightly. “Pardon me, I wasn’t aware. I’m Gray.”

“And ye name yerselves after colors,” the man said and Gray nodded several times with a bright smile on his lips.

“Yes! But we prefer to call ourselves Librarians.”

“The fuck is a Librarian?” the man asked, clearly not happy with his presence here, and Gray tilted his head.

“People that look after libraries, of course. Buildings that house stories, generally in written form, though we often invite people from oral traditions to speak,” he explained patiently, though his voice was colored with excitement. “Though I guess you would refer to us as Wanderers since we don’t have a branch here, so you would only know of our Sojourners. Which I am.”

“Well, you make it sound like you don’t cause problems everywhere you go,” the man grunted, but he was tapping his fingers on the bartop.

“Well, if we have caused issues here, I deeply apologize for that,” Gray said sincerely. “Some of our members are a bit excitable.”

“Ugh,” the man grunted, which wasn’t much of a reply, but he was still tapping his fingers on the bartop. “So, you’re not the troublemaking type, then?”

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Gray tilted his head as he considered lying and saying he wasn’t, but…

“I try to behave to the standards of the Sojourners,” he said simply, because that was the only answer he could give.

“I heard you Wanderers had an issue with the Church of Light,” the man said, and Gray had to wonder just how much information he was receiving and who from.

“We Librarians accept all walks of faith and purpose,” he said as the bartender set a mug of water in front of him. “Oh, thank you very much.”

“That’s not much of an answer,” the man said, and Gray smiled serenely.

“We accept all walks of faith and purpose,” he insisted, “and that includes the right to refuse a faith.”

He knew where this was going, and while he didn’t like intervening in the Church of Light, as it always caused some kind of theological-political fiasco, he wasn’t entirely opposed to it.

“So, what exactly are your vows, because I feel like you got some kinda way with words and are gonna keep dancing around the question,” the man asked bluntly, and Gray smiled serenely.

“We Librarians believe in the right to choose, the right to information, and the right to broaden your horizons. We do not recruit, though if people ask us to share the stories we collect, we will gladly do so. We believe in the path of knowledge, and the path of education. We believe that the ability to read is a human right, and we believe in the right to question. We do not believe in abuse, or heavy hands, and we believe that peace will be found in knowledge. We believe in the right to fight, and the right to remain neutral. Above all, we believe in the preservation of knowledge, and the preservation of culture.”

It was recited like a poem. ‘We’ was emphasized, clearly and openly, like there was some kind of power in the word, and he seemed beyond happy to share this information, like it was his great purpose in life. His eyes were shining in a way that was almost concerning, and would have looked better if his face wasn’t so burnt and torn. There was a sweetness in his expression, and his smile was broad.

“Does that sufficiently answer your question?” he asked and tilted his head like a particularly curious bird, and the man grunted and took a long swig of his ale.

“Just fucking ask him to help if you’re gonna beat around the bush, Geoff!” someone groused, and another particularly large man flopped into the seat next to him.

Gray’s eyes darted to the bartender, who had a bit of a concerned expression on her face, but she was saying nothing as she polished her mugs with an old rag. He took in the state of the room. Everyone was dirty, and looked exhausted, like they had just come back from a long day at work, but there was a heaviness despite the atmosphere of old friends that had known each other a long, long time.

Then, he turned his attention to the new man. Another burly man, dressed in worn clothes, with long hair pulled back in a knotted and windswept braid. There were flyaways everywhere, and a big beard, but he didn’t seem to care much for his own appearance. His appearance was somewhat similar to this ‘Geoff’, with the same weight in his face and high cheekbones and sharp eyebrows, but Gray decided not to mention it this time.

“Help?” Gray repeated, and the new man sighed.

“Listen, I’ve heard stories of them Wanderers. You can do all that witchcraft, right?” he asked, and Gray blinked.

“It’s holy magic, the same as priests,” he said flatly, because despite the ignorance, that was still rude. Very rude.

“Right. So, you can probably take on some priests, right?”

“Sojourners don’t actually look for fights,” Gray said cagily, because they often just landed in their laps, which seemed to be happening right.

“Listen, there’s some missionaries or whatever just outside town,” the man said and threaded his fingers. “We’re simple folk here. Miners, you know. We don’t have any of that fancy witchcraft y’all do, or anything like that. Just some pickaxes and shovels. And they were real polite at first, so it was fine.”

“It was fine,” Gray repeated, not liking where this was going.

“But then those people started talking to the little’uns, you see? Feeding ‘em and whatnot. Talking about some Goddess. And we thought it was harmless, but then the little’uns stopped coming home for dinner. And breakfast, and lunch. And we tried to handle it real peaceably, y’see?”

Ah. The tactic of the more… evangelical missionaries of the Church of Light. Gray was familiar with it, and didn’t like where this was going.

“Next thing we know, they all got a bed and food there, and they ain’t comin’ home no more. It’d be one thing if it was just the orphans. We try to take care o’them best as we can, but food don’t go real far, and the help would be appreciated. But they got our kids, and said it was better this way, cause they got more resources to take care o’ them from the church and whatnot. We ain’t seen ‘em in days. They told us we were welcome t’come t’service and see how well they’re doin’, but that’s not right, if you ask me.”

Ah… Ah, yes, Gray hated that. He hated it quite a bit.

“Now, Geoff here was thinking you could blow th’joint, but we don’t like violence around here. I figure they’d be more receptive to another holy man…? Sorry, I can’t tell, but a holy person talking to them on our behalf.”

Gray did not know how to tell him that was not going to go the way he thought it was.

“I’m a man, mostly,” Gray replied, because he was, but he also wasn’t going to get into the complex discussion of Librarians and their concepts of gender with this man when he was worried about his kids. “And I’d be happy to speak to them on your behalf.”

So. That was the reason for the dice roll. He wasn’t altogether happy about it, but if people were in need, well. People were in need, and a Librarian never turned their back on someone that needed help. Even if it was dealing with the Church of Light, who historically despised the Library and its teachings.

“Really?” the man asked, and his face lit up like the stars in the night sky, and Gray felt a stab of guilt at his reservations. “That would be so good of ye! Thank ye kindly!”

“Of course,” Gray agreed, and desperately hoped this would be ended peaceably.

“Well, once the air clears around here, I’ll just take ye right on over!” the man exclaimed. “I’m Alfie round here, by the by! It’s a pleasure t’meet ya, Wanderer!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Gray said warmly, though he desperately wanted to correct him. Ah, well. While he was traveling through this land, he’d have to get used to the erroneous conclusions about his title. You couldn’t correct everyone.

Though he probably wouldn’t be able to correct these missionaries without violence. Ah, how was he going to get those little ones out? He would have to be quite careful.