"What do you think?" The sorcerer hissed darkly, still glowering down at him. "Now, neither you nor I have much time, so you may want to begin, scribe dragon."
Garron sighed. "I do not have what you need. Aren't you allied with the Fae? You may have better luck asking her. Runes are not a dragon's specialty."
"That is not the answer I'm looking to hear." The sorcerer was getting visibly frustrated.
"An uneasy alliance then..." Garron surmised, nodding in understanding. "That's really the best you can expect from the Fae. You can never be certain where you stand with their kind."
"These tomes...they date back many centuries. How many, exactly?" He interrupted, stalking over to the makeshift workspace Garron had created.
Garron's eyes trailed the sorcerer, brows furrowed slightly. "Depends. They each were written in a different time period."
"The least should be at least...500 years old?" The sorcerer guessed. "Older, perhaps?"
