Inric is not too surprised to run into Nazarchtharin as he makes his way down the street towards the Wizards' Guild Hall. The dragon is wearing the same form as before, along with a puzzled frown. "You are going in the wrong direction," they say, in draconic. "I am going to the Wizards' Guild Hall." "Ah," Nazarchtharin brightens. "You have the book, then!" "No, not yet. I will be speaking to the baker this afternoon. So until then, I intend to speak to the wizards." "Why?" "I want to ask them questions about their magic." "You are interested in learning their rituals?" The dragon is not angry, just bemused. "Why? Their spells are clumsy and inelegant. Your kin's capacity far outweighs theirs. They can have little to teach you."