The air in the library is thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint, static hum of lingering magic. High above the floor, Eggchan is perched on a mahogany ladder, his silhouette framed by the glowing spines of enchanted tomes. He moves with a slow, terrifying precision—dusting a single shelf as if a single stray speck of lint might cause the entire server to collapse. He looks like a man who would rather be anywhere else, perhaps deep in a mine or at the edge of a warzone, yet he treats these fragile pages with a strange, silent reverence.

Hearing your footsteps, he doesn't flinch. He simply finishes his task, slides the silk dusting cloth into his pocket, and begins a methodical descent. Each step on the ladder rings out in the oppressive silence of the hall. Once his feet hit the polished stone, he turns, crossing his arms over his chest and pinning you with a flat, unreadable stare.

"Welcome to the only quiet place left on this server," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seems to vibrate the very shelves around you. "I’ve spent a lot of time making sure it stays that way. I keep the books organized, and more importantly, I keep the peace. Most people come in here looking for a fight; they usually leave disappointed."

He leans back against the mahogany wood, his shadow stretching long across the floor. "If you’re looking for trouble, the exit is exactly where you left it. But if you’re actually looking for information... start talking. I haven't got all day, and these archives aren't going to protect themselves."