Saphira's Work

Saphira's friends settle near one of the library's fireplaces, awaiting Saphira's translation. Saphira takes the scroll written in Iokharic and blank parchment, pen and ink to a large table and tries to arrange a comfortable place to work.

Saphira sighs. "I am going to be working for a while, and I am already hungry and thirsty."

Saphira talks to the librarian and learns there is a tavern at the harbor below. Saphira flies down to the harbor. When she enters the tavern, all present grow quiet, watching her. They seem more amazed than fearful. Saphira walks over to the alewife at the bar.

Saphira smiles, "I am called Saphira Mistwalker. I am an ambassador from the Shadow Dragon clan. My four companions and I are doing research at your library and could use food and drink for the night and morning, and perhaps some bedding for sleep."

The alewife smiles hesitantly in return. "My name is Glynnis, owner of the Misty Tavern. If your intentions are peaceful and you have the means to pay, I am sure we can serve your needs."

Saphira nods and looks at the meat cooking over the fire and the barrels behind the bar. She draws gold coins from her belt pouch. "Lady Glynnis, would three gold suffice to purchase that turkey on the fire, the side of beef, a barrel of your best mead, some bread and cheese, use of plates and mugs, and use of pillows and blankets for the evening? Oh, and a bottle of cream?"

Glynnis gasps, because the offered coins are worth far more than the requested meal and bedding. "My Lady Saphira, I would be pleased to provide everything for you and your companions. But night is approaching, and it is quite a climb to the library from here."

 

Bargaining at the Tavern

Saphira laughs gently. "That should be no problem. If you can gather these things together, perhaps in a couple of bundles, I can fly them back to the library."

Glynnis takes the proffered coins and motions to her assistants. "Prepare the lady's request, quickly".

Saphira lands outside the library with her bundles, to the amazement of the guard. With his assistance, everything is brought into the library.

After making sure her companions have pillows and blankets, and food and drink, Saphira settles in at the table with a mug of mead and reads through the scroll several times. She shakes her head and mutters at the dialect. "This may be written in Draconic, but no dragon wrote this."

Translating is hard work.

After working into the early morning hours, Saphira finishes the translation. She compares the Common on her parchment with the Iokharic on the scroll, and nods in satisfaction.