With a groan resembling the creaking of an old leather tome, Shandrizar quips back at Oz with a wry smile. "Good to know we have a billy goat if I ever need help swallowing my pride."
Surveying the cramped living quarters, the floating spellbook is determined not to stay here, if not for the ongoing yugoloth attack then for the sheer unsuitability of such a space for an archmage of his stature. Not even a bookshelf in sight! "Good to meet you, Bix. I am Shandrizar...master of...well, just Shandrizar will have to do. This is Graydon, my bonded Conjurer. You do appear to have several mutations of your upper eyestalks, though hardly enough to not qualify you as a beholder. I mean, take for instance, my condition. I assure you beneath this handsome papery facade is a man; it's just my...physical shell...is a temporary inconvenience. Now, Bix, would you be so kind as to inform us of a way out of this inn? As a member of the Free League - yes? - you certainly cannot abide by the subjugation of innocents at the hands of fiends?"
Then, telepathically to Graydon:
Conjurer, it would appear our host Bix is an exiled beholder, creatures also known as eye tyrants, megalomaniacs from an unknown dimension who see themselves as superior to other forms of life. They are afflicted with madness, one and all. Perhaps Bix hails from the realm of Ilsensine in the Outlands? Ah, what you would call the Plane of Concordant Opposition, I believe. Clearly, an atypical representative of his species.