## November A tall Tabaxi woman walks into a theater and sits next to an elf with light green eyes. “Ms. [[11.16 Winter Moon|Winter Moon]], I presume,” November says. “That’s me. You are the one [[Andraste]] told me about?” [[11.12 November Bituin|November]] nods. “I hear the Candle Keep has access to more than just books. To all manner of records. Names. Genealogies.” “My employers value data very highly, it’s true. Whose history would you want? You already know I can’t tell you your own.” November shakes his head. “I’m not interested in my own line.” He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a sheet of parchment. “Thirty-two. Three. Five.” He says. It’s almost a mantra. Winter looks at the paper and counts forty names. Her tail flicks once, twice. “This is not an easy request, and the Candle Keep’s services do not come cheap, even for causes such as this.” November nods. “I know. Books. The only currency the Candle Keep values. I can pay two volumes I can guarantee you’ve never seen before. One up front and one upon delivery.” “We already have quite a collection of High Elf classics.” She says. “I’m sure. But what about the songs of the Goliaths?” “Those are never written.” “They have never *been* written,” November corrects. “But a [[12.11 Skymender|friend of mine]] allowed me to write them. He said the time has come for them to be shared. But I can see that they are of no interest to you.” Winter smiles. “My tail betrays me.” “Only because you allowed it to do so. We have a deal then?” November says, holding out a leather portfolio filled with carefully handwritten sheets. Winter Moon reads a couple, then closes the portfolio again. “We do. I will be in touch.”