My name is Annabelle. I'm a librarian. I'm from Sasserine's Noble district, but there's nothing noble about me. If you had told me three weeks ago that I'd be at the gates of a noble's mansion holding an invitation for a personal meeting with the head of the house addressed to my name, I'm not sure I would have believed you. That was before I stopped a runaway cart by jumping in front of it and zapping the horse unconscious with my bare hands. In retrospect, I don't know what I was thinking, but the driver walked away from it, and so did I—and I guess I gained a reputation in the process. People started whispering behind my back, calling me "the invincible bookworm," saying I was secretly a powerful wizard.
For the record, I'm not a powerful wizard. I can't even cast any spells. I've looked at spellbooks, tried to decipher some of the rituals and incantations, but for the life of me I can't get any of them to work the way the books say. Instead, they...well, they do something else. Somehow, I have a talent for shaping magical energy into physical objects. For instance, I once tried to learn a "Spider Climb" spell so I could reach the top shelves more easily. (I swear they build those things for goliaths. I'm barely 5 feet tall.) I labored over it for an hour. I could feel the magic essence in my hands as I was working. Then the next thing I knew, I was wearing a gray and white cloak with mottled blue markings that seemed to shift and flow over my back like liquid. It felt real, and solid, but when I tried to take it off, it just flowed right back onto my shoulders. I was totally freaking out—but it worked. I could climb walls effortlessly while I wore it. Thing is, that's not how the spell is supposed to work. It's supposed to last maybe an hour or so, with no weird visual effects. My spider cloak has lasted for months.
Long story short, it turns out I'm naturally gifted at an obscure form of magic, and I have no idea why. Either way, I guess word got around, and a messenger knocked on my door to deliver a letter from a noblewoman who heard about me and, apparently, decided she needed to talk to me over dinner. At her mansion.
"Hey, knock knock, you there?"
I jumped at the sound.
"Fellow adventurer, I'm guessing?" said the same voice, which belonged to a dark-haired, tan-skinned halfling woman in sharkleather armor. "Looks like we got the same note." She waved a letter of her own, written on the same stationery as the one I received.
"Sorry! I spaced out! I'm a little nervous. I don't think I've even set foot in the Merchant District before, let alone in a place like this. I'm Annabelle."
"Liona. Nice to meet you! I've heard rumors about you, I think! Going into the adventuring business proper, then, huh? Oh—I hope you'll forgive me if I don't shake hands!"
I looked at the sparks of electricity coursing intermittently between the fingers of my gloves—another of my creations, and the same magic I once used to knock out a panicked horse—and nodded mutely, not sure how to respond. Adventuring business?
Liona must have spotted the look on my face. "Ah, you didn't know it was about a quest? Trust me, this is how adventures always start! A wealthy patron contracts a ragtag group of freelancers for a discreet purpose? Par for the course!"
"But...I'm just a librarian," I stammered. "I mean, I know a little magic...sort of...but I'm not an adventurer!"
"That's only because you don't have an adventurer's kit yet," said Liona sagely. "Don't worry, this is the Merchant District. We'll get you fixed up with one soon enough. Now, are you coming in or what?"
She turned and started walking toward the mansion, and I followed. What did I get myself into?
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