By Malveiras fortune let me escape this alive and I promise I will never drink a swig of ale again. Oooh shite. Archibald prayed as he had prayed a hundred times before. Cloaked in a navy blue robe, and an ivory mask was a short firbolg man ducking and swerving through Heket’s alleys. There he ran into a dusty old bookshop. On the door was a great big and in red sign that said ‘CLOSED’. It smelled of a leaky ceiling, damp moldy corners, and layers of dust as thick as the books. A fat orange tabby lay stretched out behind the display window, completely unbothered by the sudden and raucous disturbance that was Archibald running into the shop. He desperately struggled to take off his cloak once inside, tumbling a few bookstacks to the ground in the process. He shoved the cloak and mask behind the counter, and shuffled around the various junk to find a pair of fake glasses. He briskly walked towards the display window, holding his breath. A platoon of soldiers ran by through the main street, paying no mind to the quaint “Books of the World” shop. “Quite good I think Elvira, quite good.” He gave a gentle pat to the orange tabby’s head. Straightening out his vest with a firm tug and a harumph, Archibald walked back behind the counter. I should probably wait, he thought as he continued pulling out a small leather scroll case finely engraved with gold filigree and wrapped in a royal blue ribbon. He inspected it carefully checking for arcane alarms, or hidden mechanisms. Peeking at the window again, he carefully unscrewed the scroll case. He unfurled the first piece of parchment. On it was a map of the world, dotted in red points spread across all of the continents. The next piece was a long list of names. Archibald’s hands trembled with the value of these few pieces of paper. He lay the pieces down on the counter ever so lightly. Again, he scrambled through the unorganized mess to pull out a wooden box with runes carved into it on all sides. The rune glowed as he opened the lid. A small spool of copper wire lay inside it. He pulled a bit of wire off of the spool and whispered into it. “I have the list, making”- a shadow passed by the window- “copies now.” Archibald sat in a moment of stillness. He began again, eyes stuck to the door. “Making copies now. Rendezvous at the stone fountain as planned. All clear so far. Ivory Kite ending message.” He wined the spool back up, and put the box to the side.