Ulryic smiled. "I'd be happy for the company," he said amiably. He busied himself packing a bag full of things... blank papers and scrolls, ink wells, pens, charcoal sticks, a couple torches, a couple books, food, water, wine, and a hand full of other things... actually, the bag should have been quite full, but sagged when put over his shoulder as if it were nearly empty. It was a bag of holding... one of his favorite objects that he possessed.
He stripped out of his clothes then and shifted back into his Dragon form. "It's a ways," he said, "we'd best fly. Are you ready?"