Amongst the stacks of books, Hythlodaeus huddles in a corner and dozes. He's really feeling the way his strength has been sapped here, and if this is a safe area he's sure a little nap won't hurt...

He can also be found idly examining a certain book. He'll glance up as people pass, and offer a tired smile. "Have you found anything interesting yet?" He's not going to spend all of his Sand on books here, but he can always ask for information from others. And of course, he's willing to share his book's information.

Trudging through the mirrors, Hythlodaeus soon becomes aware of a presence- a familiar voice, his own, whispering spiteful things from the shadows. Emet-Selch wouldn't be so weak. Nor would Azem. Look at you, you can barely put one foot in front of the other. Closing his eyes and stopping briefly, Hythlodaeus then glares at the nearest mirror. The voice continues, though. You always were the weak link.

His bow forming in his hands, Hythlodaeus fires several arrows in quick succession at the mirrors, but he isn't expecting one to come hurtling back at him. It catches him in the arm, and he hisses and clutches at it. Not a shot meant to kill, simply to wound. It means he needs to stop what he's doing and pull the arrow from himself before he can heal it, but if he tries to do that surely he leaves himself open to another attack. He's in a tricky situation- he would appreciate some help, even if the words the shadow continues to spit in his direction are, for lack of a better word, embarrassing. You are entirely unworthy of Emet-Selch's affections.

For anything else! Hythlodaeus will be in the Eating Parlour and maybe a bedroom. He might also be looking in bathrooms for medicine that he will trade to others for Sand- he's also available to heal Meridians with magic if needed, in exchange for a small amount of Sand.