Skinner leads you and your friends to a small room off to one side. There are maps on the wall and lots of chairs around a big table and of course plenty of books. A floofy cushion off to one side holds an equally floofy and familiar squirrel.

“Hello, Sigmund,” you say.

The squirrel rises his head from where it rested on his tail. “Ah, hello Dreamer,” he says before resting his head back down. His belly is nice and plump and you suspect it hides a food baby, which means he’s having a post-snack nap, which is one of the greatest sorts of naps.

“So,” Skinner says. “I suppose I should sell you on the idea of the main club, which is what most members of the Library Exploration Club join. But I’m the leader of the subgroup called the Library Expedition Club, and I would be a poor leader if I didn’t try to at least sell you guys on the idea of joining an expedition.”

“What’s an expedition?” Abigail asks. “I mean, what’s a Library Club Expedition?”

Skinner grins and gestures to the map on the nearest wall. He points to a golden pin right in the middle. “Five Peaks is well situated as a central hub on the peninsula. Lots of traffic coming through, plenty of mages and scholars passing by. The political climate here is also favourable to groups of researchers and the like,” Skinner says. “Which means that there’s a great need for books and we can purchase them to our heart’s content. But books don’t always come to us.”

Skinner pointed to a bunch of pins across the map, these in bronze or silver.

“We have the locations of abandoned laboratories and research centres where documentation was left behind, the location of towns where some mages and scholars are working on their own manuscripts and the location of books buyers across the region. Most of our work is nice and safe. Leave Five Peaks, find the book or books you’re looking for, return. Some of it isn’t. That’s why we work closely with the Adventure Club and occasionally some mercenary guilds outside of the school.”

“It sounds dangerous,” Abigail said.

“It sounds like fun,” Charlotte said right after.

Daphne hummed. “It sounds like it might be an opportunity to leave the city.”

You blink. It’s your turn to say something, isn’t it? “It sounds like supper time. Hey, mister Skinner, how many of the books can we eat?”

Skinner’s smile freezes for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”

“How many books.” You point to a book in case he forgot what those were. “Can we eat?” You point to your mouth.

“None. You can eat none of the books,” he says. “Our entire goal is to procure and protect knowledge, not... eat it.”

You decide that Skinner is no fun.

Abigail pats you on the head. “It’s okay. I’m sure we can find something for you to eat if we do ever go on an expedition. Speaking of which, mister Skinner. How often do you do these, and are they dangerous?”

“We’re leaving for the next one tomorrow. The level of danger we expect is graded before an expedition leaves, though even the lowest tier leaves with an escort. There are bandits and the like out there, though they have rarely been an issue. They want gold, not books, and facing off against three or four mages is usually a bit much for them.”

You let the girls talk to mister Skinner while you look around the room. Then, when you’re bored of that, you have tentacles look beyond the room and to the huge library. There are thousands of books, maybe millions of them. Some, very few of them, but some, call out from darkened, unvisited corners with the promise of lore that is ancient and forgotten.

Silly books, being all mysterious and edgy.

One of your tentacles opens one of Abigail’s empty notebooks that was placed on your big body and another finds a pen. You begin scritching and scratching some words in a True Tongue into the notebook. Just instructions on how to call you and what sort of food you like best and how to reverse-summon the food straight to your belly. You even promise great rewards, which you hope the mortals reading understand means you’ll cuddle and hug them for the food. Then you slip the notebook in one of the more commonly used shelves.

There. Now a mortal, no matter what language they speak or read, will be able to contact you to bring you food.

This is an excellent idea. You should do it more often. Maybe start a club that’s all about feeding you. A club for everyone in the city. With Abigail as the leader, of course. And statues. Statues of tentacles that make people feel happy when they look at them.

You’re brought out of your food-based scheming when Abigail stopped patting your head. “We’ll need to think about it,” she says to Skinner. “But one expedition to try wouldn’t hurt, I don’t think.”

Skinner smiles. “I would be escorting you myself, and the only expedition we have lined up for now is low risk. Just a quick jaunt to a nearby town, then back. It’s a day’s walk on foot, half that by carriage. And the club would cover the cost of the Inn and transportation as long as you document the voyage properly.”

Daphne nods. “I might be interested. I ended up using the club’s services quite a bit last year and I find myself with some free time. That and it would be good to explore outside of the city a little.”

“I’m just in it for the exercise and the fun,” Charlotte says. “But I’ll stay back if you guys want.”

"We’ll think on it,” Abigail says.

Skinner grins. “Our next expedition leaves from the front gates of the school an hour past sun-up. Show up dressed for an excursion and you’d be more than welcome to join.”