Adakite watched a Wordsmith guiding a new Wanderer through the Commons. He felt like an intruder on their moment, but there wasn't much else to do here. He looked down at the Archivist sitting beside him, a mass of purple and red flowers all attached to a stool. He wasn't sure if they could talk or not, but he hadn't tried speaking with it. All the flowers did was create the area behind the desk a tripping hazard with its roots and rustle around, which needless to say was not very entertaining.
Reflecting back on the mistakes that brought him to this point, which basically amounted to becoming friends with two other Wordsmiths that like to pull straws for the worst positions, he groaned. He became a part of the Guild so that he didn't have to sit and wait for someone to make a command, but here he was doing the exact same stuff as before.
He looked up at the sign placed above him:
Complaints Desk
- Is there a specific work not available in your language?
- Is another patron causing harm to your experience?
- Can we do something to better the Library as a whole?
All can be answered and assisted here!
As he looked back from the sign, the Wanderer and the Wordsmith had disappeared. There goes that entertainment, he thought slumping down, placing his head in his arms and pretending to sleep. Maybe no one would bother him, even though most anyone knows living statues don't sleep.
