I got one word off the top page before the ink ran. One! Warrior.

There was a novice who came through here years ago, green as grass, telling anyone who'd listen about becoming a warrior. Half the beginners in this town say it.

Then this rookie stopped coming around. I assumed this traveler had gone to Perion to make something of themselves, the way they all do.

...I never asked after them. Not once. I'm the elder of this town and I never asked.

Go to Manji. Every amateur who wants a real weapon ends up in front of that man sooner or later. Will you take it?

Accept: Good. He's not much of a talker, but he may perk up once he sees where that ledger came from.

Decline: Then leave it here! It's waited this long, it can wait for someone with a spine.

---

...What do you want, stranger?

I know this handwriting. I put my mark on a page written in it once, in a small room above the Magic Library. I never went back up there. So she's still writing...

Stan's stamp. So, he sent an adventurer up here for something he couldn't read himself. Typical.

There was another one like you once. Stood right about there. Talked at me for a month about a sword they were saving for.

Ten thousand short, this fool would say. As if I cared.
I told them the truth. Nobody buys their first real weapon. You inherit one, or you take it off something that tried to kill you.

Then I told the rookie to get out of my sight.
...And they did.

The pages are too damaged, but I know who may be able to help.