[Anora Eventide]

(Morning, 42nd of Cryxatum, summer, Era XIV)

The state of things in the Vortexian library mildly offended Anora's sense of order. Plumes of dust rose as she edged a dead plant with her foot, and sickly cobwebs gathered in swaths in some corners.
Some signs of age lent a touch of distinction, but this was a little much. Books were meant to be musty, not entombed. However, this was Vortex, not Daltina or Natura. A thematic drear settled about some portions of the place and sunk it claws in. She could not fight the spirit of an entire city if it was possessed by such a hungry thing.

Apart from the eras' accruement of dust, the library, any library, bid Anora be at peace. What she could not comprehend through the heart could be sifted through the mind. Thousands of little words falling into her thoughts, turning her blood different colors with their influence. Her hand paused lovingly on the cover of a discarded tome. On a strange whim, she held it to her bosom as she approached the grizzled dwarf.

He gave the prissy lady a passing look from over the top of his own volume.
"Recipe books are towards the back, lady."
Sadly, this one was likely not here to sample the thrilling books on arms and armor.

Anora cleared her throat before beginning in her caramel tone.
"I'm afraid that's not what I'm looking for."
The dwarf raised an eyebrow so thick it almost melded with his hairline.
"Some sappy book about princes and love?"
Anora almost scowled, but she was on her best behavior for this endeavor.
"No, Sir. They are too silly for my taste. I like histories, but I'm not here for a book."
"Then you picked the wrong place, lady." He huffed gruffly.
Nonplussed, Anora pressed on.
"I'm looking for some employment. I was told you might need assistance here." She placed the discarded book on the table and looked at the rising stack behind him of orphaned tomes.
"Maybe," he replied with a bit more interest. "But we don’t pay enough to satisfy your sort."
Anora gave a slim, pretty smile.
"My sort will work for fifty crowns a cycle."
It was a price lower than what the dwarf expected from a human so snootily attired. He shut his book.
"But will you work? This isn't a blacksmith's but it isn't a tea party."
"I will work for two days, if you are displeased I will leave without pay." Anora traced invisible shapes on the surface of his desk, "If I perform to your standards, as I will, then you pay me for my time."

Pebble Masher, shifted in his seat. "Very well, but this place is not all sweetness and light. Some awful things to a lady are thought to lurk in the cellars."
A brief, knowing smile turned Anora's pretty face a mite disconcerting. She had heard such rumors, and they had only convinced her further of the location's merits.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that, Sir." She looked at him fully, "I'm a cautious girl."

Pebble Masher was a bit puzzled by the woman's willingness to work amidst such conditions. His hand pinched his beard and stroked its wild strands.
"Very well then, Ms…"
"Eventide. Anora Eventide."
"Ms. Eventide. I am Mr. Pebble Masher, and I will see you tomorrow at eight sharp for work."

With a pleased look, Anora nodded and curtsied.
"Of course, you won't be disappointed."