Virion locked the door behind him, clutching a disorderly stack of papers to his chest. Footsteps pounded outside his door and quietened as they went off. He listened for a while longer before he deemed it safe to move back to his room back up the hallway.
The apprentice had been the only elven one to arrive on New Vroengard that year. The other four were either crude northern humans or a short dwarven girl. He didn't usually talk to dwarves, and the humans had effectively ostracised him. The senior apprentices were kind enough to him but they had their own matters to attend to. So he was left all alone with his elven eccentricity.
It was only a few days after they had first moved into their quarters did Virion stumble upon a queer pile of hurried scribbles hidden in the wall of his room. To his folly he had left the door open and one of the more daring humans had rushed in and stole it from him. Being an elf, Virion managed to steal the book back as soon as it slipped from his grasp, and dashed out of his own room. Then the human called on the rest of his pack, and Virion had no choice but to keep running. He had never brawled with anyone before. It was better that he kept himself safe than face off with the humans.
Now he was safe inside the locked confines of his room, he could finally take a closer look at the first page of it:
Dear Apprentice,
I wrote this compendium of sorts about 60 years after the Riders were first established. I'm not sure in what era you are reading this book now, but it can't be too long after I graduated, and the information here is probably still relevant — and rather valuable, if I may say.
Understand that I had never wished for anyone to read this. It was, at first, a jumbled stack of notes collating years of various discoveries and shortcuts I had found while living on the island. It was for my own use only. I guarded it carefully and kept it safe in a secret spot in my room. My precautions did not seem to work, however, and it disappeared from my room. I won't tell you the full story, but I can tell you it was a week's worth of wasted time trying to get it back. To steal it back, more accurately.
To my horror I found that someone had scribbled all over my notes too. But as I read, the scribbles became more legible, and I realised that someone had added to the information already in my notes. That was when the idea struck me: why not create a guidebook for future apprentices? It would save them a lot of toil and trouble. And, if you would forgive me, I also thought it would be funny to have a bunch of apprentices stealing the same book from each other over and over again. It sounded like a fun game to play.
My only condition for the players is that they add to this book as well before it gets stolen from them. Now, I have no way of ensuring that you do so. You could just leave the book as it is, or add something untruthful. I wouldn't know. But I trust you who holds this book will be of noble spirit, despite the thievery concerned with this game, and do what I have asked.
Guard this book carefully, young one. It's only a matter of time before it will disappear from under your bed, too.
(The author's name is too smudged to read.)
It was a good thing he still had a couple of minutes before the Induction in the Great Halls.