"Everything. Both of them?" That's not very informative. Garrot brings a hand to stroke at his beard as his eyes track Xaljim's rotations. "You gotta have some more details after five hundred and twenty days." Then he pauses, looking hesitant and vulnerable for a moment before he asks one question with just a hint of a shake in his voice.

"Did... did my father tell you anything he learned?" He's wistful, because Garrot's had to come to terms with the fact that he's both reliving his father's death and memorializing him while he's here. "I bet he and the Protector got along well." Of course he knows nothing about who the Protector is, he's assuming.

Give him anything, Xaljim. Any specific details about why the world is like this and what the Wizard and Protector screwed up.