The Shadowcat

Three rings in the wizard’s nose.
A glass eye, solid blue.
No hair at all. Not even eyebrows.
He tells me of the legedary Shadowcat, a spirit in his library.
Only he can touch the books. If someone else enters the library, the Shadowcat strikes.
Instant death.
“Never go in there,” he says.
I nod.
“Can you make a Greyhawk Slinger?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say.
“You’re hired,” he says, and I am now the butler to the most powerful archmage in the land.
He hands me a book. “Mind putting this back in the library?”
I laugh.
He smiles.