65

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Timshel gives a self-deprecating laugh as he withdraws a rolled scroll from his pouch. "This is just a bit of a welcome letter that all members of the company sign. I've got a bit of daub here, so you can black a finger and make your mark…"

A welcome letter? You frown as Timshel extends it to you and look up at his face as he suddenly jerks it back.

"You can't read, can you?"

"No, I can."

"Ah, splendid," he says, unrolling just the barest sliver of the bottom of the scroll where a signature might go. "Well, no need to bore you with the particulars, it's a bit dry. I'll sum it up: you are well met!" he calls out heartily. "Now make your mark."

"I should like to read it afore I sign my name, if you please," you say politely, feeling freshly uncertain about this whole encounter.

Onward