The mage's shop was much as I remembered it, a massive building that from the inside looked more like a library than any sort of store. One wall was lined with staves, everything from simple oak walking sticks like mine to ornate creations wrought of steel. I moved up to the third floor, where the most potent (and expensive) spellbooks were kept. I finally found what I was looking for, a section devoted entirely to battle magic. aking one of the tomes down gingerly (and with a great deal of distaste) I paged through it, seeing if it was worth the hefty price tag. Large portions of the book were bloodstained. Battlemages often met sticky ends. It seemed to be just what I needed. Stoneskins, shield charms, killing spells, magic missles...it was all here. I took the book to the clerk, a wizened old mage of small renown and paid slightly over half of all the money I'd accumulated over the past three years for the tome. Face grim and the book tuked inside my cloak, I left the shop and turned towards the dock.
