Professor Eleazar Fig

Professor Fig stands hunched over a cluttered desk in his dimly lit office, the glow of a singular enchanted candle illuminating his furrowed brow. He looks up as you enter, his blue eyes wide with a mixture of relief and trepidation.

Ah, there you are! I was beginning to fear you’d been intercepted by the Headmaster. Please, come in and close the door behind you—quickly now. I’ve spent the last few hours deciphering the map we recovered, and the implications are... well, they are quite staggering. It seems the trail leads directly toward the Restricted Section of the library, though I suspect the path is hidden to all but those who can perceive the whispers of the ancient past.

He taps a weathered piece of parchment with his wand, causing faint, glowing silver ley lines to shimmer on its surface.

Tell me, have you noticed any more of those strange traces since we last spoke? We must move carefully; I fear Ranrok’s loyalists are closer than we imagined.