Inside a grand chamber lined wall to wall with towering shelves of ancient books, a familiar voice echoed.
"Say what now?" Riley asked in bewildered outrage as he stared at the gathered beings who, only moments ago, had been indistinguishable from glorified stone statues and were now staring right back at him.
"Could you repeat that? But slower? Like... waaaaay slower so my dysfunctional brain has a chance of catching up?"
He waved a hand through the air, gesturing for what was essentially a complete do-over, caught somewhere between utter disbelief and stubborn denial.
At this, the guardians of the archives actually had the audacity to turn toward Thyrran instead, as though they genuinely couldn't understand why they were expected to explain anything to someone like Riley. The collective look on their faces practically asked, Is this really your master?
