Menagerie

I come to a town.  I wish to see how much there is to release.  Many come to look upon me.  I change form, become a wanderer of strange habit. An elf boasts at me, so I say nothing.  An man in armor rests near me, so I embrace him.  A halfling buzzes, and I ignore.  A sorcerer covets me so I engage. She thinks me a spice from strange lands.  Something to be sampled.  So I am a prized animal.  I hint at more and she drinks.  I draw her towards me.  I promise to open my pages.  She never will see what is beneath for there is nothing, only more covers, and more covers.  But she draws her power from her blood.  Her blood is there, it is real.  It can release many.  There are many to be released here.