The library was huge. She slowly, but surely, snuck past each monk and finally reaching the battle mages chambers. Aja reached for the handle of the door into the room with the chimney shoot. A small click came from the wood. Her eyes went wide as she nimbly slid to the side of the opening. A slender High Elf mage in flowing white robes strode through, staring intensely at a scroll. He didn’t even notice her crouching nearby as he went past her. Aja wiped her forehead as she deftly entered.
Her hands were covered in soot by the time she got the grate off of the shoot. A creak came from behind her. Knowing her cover was blown, Aja yanked the grate out of the way. A large gasp came from the other side of the room. Turning to see who found her, a young Breton woman with a frightened look on her face had begun to weave a spell. Aja waved to her, winked as she pointed to the scroll shaped bag, and jumped down the small hole.
The fall seemed forever and stifling. She landed with a loud thud in a pile of ashes. When the guards call me ashborn, they’re not kidding, she scrambled out of the refuse.
The cold night air greeted Aja. She took a deep breath, relieved to be outside at last. She retied her hair back out of her face. Skin no longer fair and hair not blonde from the grime, Aja looked like a completely different person.