Taran ducked as he entered through the doorway, and stepped a bit away to make enough room for Mack. The mage had slithered over to the edge of the room, grabbing things off the walls and shelves seemingly at random. She ignored them for a moment and fiddled with something in her hands, and it seemed like she wasn’t going to pay them any mind until Mack spoke.<br/><br/>Her neck twisted around so she was facing the two of them, and Taran shot Mack a nervous look. “Will I help you?” she wondered aloud, moving over to the table mounted on the wall. She placed another one of the instruments on it, and it stuck on. Immediately, it began to pipe out smoke. She sighed, resting her long head on her bony hands. “It’s always the travelers wanting help, no one ever wants to help me.”<br/><br/>Taran made a disgruntled noise which caused the mage to look up. “Just to the Marsubisu territory will be fine, thank you,” he said quietly and as calmly as he could manage, crossing all of his four arms and glaring at the melancholy mage. While he was afraid of crossing her, they didn’t have time to hear her mopey musings.<br/><br/>The mage stiffened, then sighed again, possibly more heavily than before. “Fine, come this way,” said the mage, pointing them down a corridor to the left with a spindly white hand. The tower had seemed a lot narrower on the outside. As she directed them down the hallway, she eyed Mack and Taran with big black orbs. “You two don’t seem like the typical diplomats that the Marsubisus would expect. I like to know why I’m sending people before I’m sending them,” the mage said. “Business. State it.”