The smell of old leather and spell components fills the air. Shelves groan under the weight of curious things. A raven regards you coolly from atop a bookshelf, then looks deliberately away. Behind a tower of tomes sits a figure robed in grey and purple, ancient and ageless all at once. He looks up — and in that brief moment you sense it. Something about him speaks of life and death, of order held in careful tension with chaos. He smiles as though he expected you. "Looking for something specific? Or perhaps something you haven't found yet?" Three alcoves beckon from the shadows...