"Ah, another bright-eyed visitor to the tower. How quaint. And tell me, are you here to see the Archmage or just lost? Either way, do come in. Misery loves company. And do wipe your hooves before stepping in, she gets... agitated about the carpets. " For a moment, you’re unsure where the voice is coming from, until you spot the raven perched on a marble bust above you, his eyes gleaming, voice a dry, croaking rasp.