As you move through Rhy'Din you come to the Arena. A mighty building set within the middle of the Guild district rises before you. Within this building many combatants have seen their share of glory and defeat. At the moment, all you cared about involved skimming the archives of warriors. To do this, you must come to speak with the old man who controls them.

Noone had ever seen him without his book. Noone quite knew where he received it, nor where he learned mastery over it. All knew, however, that he did master that book, and none other could control it. The book contained the secret stories of nearly all those who had ever walked through the Arena doors. It contained things even the owners of the lives on the pages had most likely forgotten. The book had such accuracy that the City Council would often inquire as to the contents to help solve some dispute they may have over some issue or other.

Noone knew the man's name. He never spoke it, and noone spoke it to him. All who approached assumed he existed forever without a name. Many believed he had existed forever. He would have berated you for such foolishness, but he let the mystery prevail. Afterall, it was good for business. He believed strongly in treating all people in as polite a manner as possible, and was ruthlessly strict in what he would divulge to the general public. Whenever he referred to the people from the pages of his book, he did so with the utmost respect. Often to the amusement of those very same people.

His office managed only a small room within the great building that housed the Arena. The walls spartan, the floor covered with a simple rug, the man sat on a stool behind a small counter - waist high - on which sat the great book. He looked at you as you approached, as he looked at all others who did the same. He had knowledge and it was his lifelong duty to give that knowledge, when requested by proper sources.