You turn around to a labyrinth of endless shelves, holding more books than you ever thought could exist in the world. The shelves reach up and up, obscuring any ceiling or sky, the uppermost stratums swaying gently as if breathing. The comforting softness of old paper and ink presses into your senses.
You hear a clatter, and then another, and look to see Novembius yoinking book after book onto the floor.
"It ain't much, but it's honest work. This place is pretty cool, huh? Whatever you need to know, it'll be here. Be careful, though. It's easy to get lost, here. I'd go with you, but I really gotta finish this. Deadlines, ya know?"
You walk among the aisles, unsure of where to begin. Suddenly, the smell of ink grows stronger. You round a shelfy corner and come upon two crumbling stone pedestals, each cradling an open book above a small, carved recess.
Place the leaf.
Place the likeness.