Joanna entered cautiously, as she always did. If she had been impressed by the display outside, she was visibly awed by the rows of shelves stocked with far more books than she had ever seen in her life. In fact, she suspected that however many people there might have been in her family, all of them combined would not have seen this many books. She wondered how many people and how many years it must have taken to write them all. Given how long it took to illuminate a typical text by hand, it must have been an entire army of scribes. Despite her wonder at the range of books present, she was still always on the lookout for danger, and as such spotted the store clerk as soon as she had a line of sight. Upon being addressed, she approached the desk.
"Yes, I am looking for some materials to write on. Ideally a bound manuscript, although a covered scroll or sheaf would suffice. I will need a quill and inkwell as well. Can you help me?"
Before too long, Steve reached the shallows and strode up onto the beach, shaking his head vigorously to dry his sodden hair. If Sara chose to observe him in term, she would see the physique of a wartime propaganda poster come to life, with etched, iron-hard musculature and virtually no fat. Brushing his heair clear of his eyes, he looked around to see if Sara had been able to match his pace.
