10
“I’ve got a name.” Bjorn kicked his feet up and rested them on Alden’s desk, his size meaning that he wasn’t comfortable in the other man’s poky office. The whole space screamed Alden, from the crammed bookshelves that didn’t seem to have any kind of system to them, to the desk covered in papers. The man himself sat on the other side of the desk, eyeing Bjorn’s feet disapprovingly from behind his black framed glasses.
“Hi Bjorn, come in and take a seat,” he deadpanned, taking off his glasses and pushing a hand through his sandy coloured hair, and sighed. “The name of the necromancer responsible I take it?” He leaned back in his chair, giving off a surprisingly laid back look for someone who was wearing a formal shirt and tie. Bjorn imagined that he was the Professor that all the femal
