Revision as of 14:31, 28 February 2017

Participants

• Fenris
• Krove
• Mal
• Sayr
• Zuri

Date

28/2/480

Log

The briefing back in Firmament had been. . . well. . . brief. All that was really known was that the Keep had gone silent a little more than three days ago, despite orders for daily runners to carry information from the keep to the city. A contingent of military personelle had been sent out, scouts and fighters, to check on the silent keep, but none have returned. Now (Mostly to avoid any further casualties of their own soldiers) the army has called on a small group of Freeswords to find out what is happening.

Zuri steps up towards the entrance to the pass into Northwarden Keep. Not his favorite place, this, on account of all the cold and ice and darkness-stalking, death-dealing critters that inhabit this place. He looks around at the other Freeswords while rubbing his hands for warmth.

A Coyote whistles as he saunters up beside Zuri, grinning as the Salamander rubs his hands together. "Cold, Zuri?" Mal asks, popping open his flask and taking a swig of vodka. He leans over to look at the other Freesword and looks them over. "This your first job?" he asks, eyeing the Wolf's equipment. "Remind me to craft you something a little better when we get out of here."

"Indeed, it is my first job as a Freeswords." replies Sayr, watching what everyone does and how they act. "I hope I will be up to the task!", says Sayr positively while coming closer to the group.

It is frigid out here. And the overcast sky hardly helps. The bone white stone of the keep is dull as the wintery sky and snowy landscape. Strangely, the keep's drawbridge stands open, though no guards seem to be patrolling the walls.

Zuri smiles at Mal and nods quickly. "Yea, it's a bit nippy here isn't it." The small salamander looks over at Sayr, greeting the wolf with a big smile. "Hi there miss! Nice to meet you! I'm Zuri!" He looks over at Mal and wiggles his nose. "I don't expect this to be a difficult job you know.. they probably just holed up and are low on supplies or something. Maybe some icy critter or two giving them trouble. Piece of pie!" He pauses, the licks his betusked lips. "Mmm, pie..." He turns around and steps towards the drawbridge, looking up at the towers. "Yea, they're really holed up..."

Mal looks around and squints. "It's TOO quiet," he mutters, shaking his head. "Always wanted to say that." The Coyote gives Sayr a thumbs up. "Well, I'm Mal," he says, introducing himself while holding the flask out to the other two. "Want a sip? It'll take the edge off the cold," he offers, eyeing the Drawbridge with a hint of suspicion.

"Greetings to everyone, I'm Sayr and I'm glad to do my first mission with you.", politely replies Sayr. She then looks at the drabridge and the keep's entrance, and move her hand towards the sheath of her sword. "Better ready ourselves in case things goes bad don't you think?", says with care Sayr to the group.

Readying for trouble was a different matter for the physician. He was mostly on hand in hopes of preventing a loss of life, and the matter for him was to get tinctures and potions, salves and bandages--and sincerely hope that nothing went wrong. "I surely hope we're not going to begin this with bloodshed." He was a bit fussed about how quickly everyone went to their swords. "You might consider the fact that frostbite and disease are just as common foes up here as any Conglomerate raid.... do you see any bodies, after all?" He begins soaking a few rags in an herbal infusion, just to be safe. "I'll give you something to ward off bad airs. Cover your mouth with it before looking at any dead body, if you would."

There do not appear to be any dead bodies. Or any bodies at all. The drawbridge is completely unmanned. No guards are patrolling and the little guard booths off to either side are dark and silent. No one calls a challenge as the small group crosses the bridge.

Zuri twirls his dagger as he looks back at Krove. "Honestly, I'd say bloodshed is almost guaranteed. It's a Freesword job. It just sort of happens like that! In fact, the only Freesword job where I-" He pauses, seemingly having heard something. "Huh..." The small salamander doubles back, heading towards the little guardpost and pressing his ear to it. "I.. I think I hear them snoring. Hah! He's sleeping on the job!" He strolls forward again, smirking. "So much for impending bloodshed.."

The Coyote blinks. "You're joking," Mal says, blinking at the Salamander. "Seriously? So, what, they all decided now was a good time for a nap?" he asks, shaking his head. "Let's wake 'em up; our job is done." Easiest job ever; Crown for nothin'!

"Come on guys, it's been three days and they're sleeping here, there must be a reason. I can't believe they're here by pure lazyness.", says Sayr, staying alert at the entrance and the surroundings.

Krove has already slammed up his little herb-rag, and is covering his mouth while shrieking at the ones daring to shake the bodies. "Are you MAD? Cover yourselves at once! This is clearly infested! Who ever heard of sleeping guards?" Had there been just normal sleep, this would have ended with an army returning home, with a few executions behind them. Nothing was right about this at all. Nothing whatsoever.

 He begins trying to shove his protective gear at others, starting with the wolf nearby.  The coyote and salamander would need more treatment soon, if they weren't careful.  "Doesn't anyone respect science these days?"
 
There is, indeed a sound of gentle snoring coming from within the guard hutch. Otherwise, the keep and its courtyard are silent. 

There are a few options from here. On one side of the courtyard are the stables, usually only used for visiting animals, and a small blacksmith's forge. Then there are the doors to the main keep.

Zuri looks back at Krove with a raised brow. "It's.. it's okay, really. There's no need to panic." He bites his lip as the protective gear is shoved at the wolf. "Woah, calm down.. it's okay. Look, I'm gonna prove it by going over there, nothing bad's gonna happen." The small salamander smiles reassuringly and starts pacing over the rest of the drawbridge, crossing to the other side, and turning to head towards the stables. "Hello? Hello! Is someone here?" He drags his tail across the ground as he walks, leaving behind him a sinuous trail.

"Oh, would you relax," Mal scoffs, eyeing Krove with irritation. Seriously, way to over-react about a nap. "I appreciate the concern, but seriously; loosen up." The Freesword shakes his head and turns to look around the courtyard.

"I'm gonna check the forge; if some idiot fell asleep while smithing; I'ma smack him..." Mal mutters, heading towards the Blacksmith's workshop. Seriously, they could've irrevokably damaged any equipment they were making. From one Craftsman to another, yanno.

"Maybe it wasn't that bad", rumbles Sayr, she goes back to a natural stance but keeps a hand close to her sword. She keeps Krove's words in mind but relax a bit. "Where do you think I should check? Maybe somewhere where there should be someone?", asks Sayr to the two remaining members.

Loosening up was what his jalap and mercury chloride was for... best purgative a being could ask for. "Oh, of course! There's nothing wrong!" He manages to belt out a surprising amount, from behind his wet rag. "We're only here because the army disappeared when they went to investigate. What could possibly go wrong? It's not as if we're being paid to be expendable and deniable assets, are we?" He didn't like the look of this. Not one bit. It was tactically unsound and almost entirely insane to abandon a post like this. He might not have much respect for the principles of nobility, but he didn't believe they were always inbred and stupid. They had to know that this was a bad situation. "There should be someone everywhere! Not just emptiness!" The dismissive way he'd been treated left him almost as sour as the trip across the abandoned bridge. "You know who else thought that nothing was wrong? Dead people! Lots and lots of dead people." Be afraid, and it might save your life.

Both stables and shop are silent. But much warmer than the empty courtyard.

Inside the stables, several large riding animals lie comfortably in their stalls, surrounded by clean straw. The slow, steady breathing of the animals is comforting as they all sleep. Five beings in the uniforms of Sweetwater soldiers lie curled up beside their beasts, sleeping peacefully.

The shop is still lit by softly glowing coals of the forge, improbably though that is, and it keeps the interior pleasantly warm, though nothing like the full roar of a forge fire. A huge grizzly bear in a heavy, leather apron lies propped up against the anvil, snoring like a saw and sever other beings lie curled up around the warm room, also blissfully asleep.

Zuri pauses as he looks at the peacefully slumbering horses and the five guards huddled up on the straw next to them. "Yea, see, it's.. it's all normal... they're all just fast asleep, all of them at the same time. It uh.." He scratches his head. "Yea, this doesn't add up, does it?" He steps back towards the other group members. "So.. ideas? Magic? Poison in the water? Something's got to be the cause behind this.." He looks around again, looking thoughtful, then steps towards the gates leading into the keep proper. "Hello? Anyone awake in here?" He calls out.

Mal peers over the Grizzly Bear's projects, nodding as he notes a lack of ruined crafts. "Good man," he says to no one in particular, stepping out of the shop, deigning not to shake them awake. They probably work so hard, they deserve a rest. "FIND ANYTHING, ZURI?" he calls to the Salamander from across the way as he walks to the middle of the Courtyard, taking another swig from his flask.

The Coyote sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, before looking at Krove. He doesn't say anything; just shakes his head. "I don't know; can magic do....this?" he asks Zuri, gesturing around.

Sayr comes back to Krove and say with a bit of stress in her voice: "You're right, we should really be cautious, it doesn't make any sense. I mean EVERY guards, EVERY animals, EVERYTHING here but us, is asleep. We should gather the others and don't wander too far from each other in case something happens."

Finally, someone listens to the medical professional. Krove gets out the herb-infused rag and hands it to her again. "I don't know of anything in my medical texts which would cause someone to fall asleep so soon..." he starts, looking at how many were on the job when it hit them. Whatever it was, it stank worse than his rag, which is why he was fearful enough to give it another dose. "Any of you beings know where the infirmary would be in a guardpost like this?" First place to check, in case there was an outbreak. It would likely be worst there, but there was no other way to be certain what was going on. "Staying together could be good... or it could be very, very bad." He nods back towards the gate. "I'll... I'll just put up a warning sign at the gate." Better than pulling up the drawbridge and sealing themselves inside. "Don't mind me." He groans at the thought of being caught out here in the freezing cold without so much as a note for others. Contain first, then treat. "If you find the infirmary, I'll join you there, just yell out. Not like they're going to be doing much to stop us."

No one seems to be injured, just sleeping, most of them quite comfortably, if in odd places. The main door to the keep is not far off, though it is probably worth noting that the drawbridge leading toward Thera'Dor is still raised.

Zuri pauses in the middle of the courtyard, looking around warily. "I haven't found anything, no." He calls out back at Mal. "Something's definitely up here. I don't think it's magic.." He walks towards a nearby building, going to inspect it from the inside.

The Coyote nods, glancing to the drawbridge leading to his homeland before shaking his head and turning to look at the two Freeswords worrying about. "C'mon, you two. If ya ain't gonna wake the bastards, let's head inside. Probably warmer, too," he calls to them, taking another gulp from his flask. Big macho Thera'Dorian, right?

With that, Mal follows along behind the Salamander, humming to himself and bobbing his head. "So, it ain't magic. I doubt it's a poison...poison doesn't typically act like...this," he comments, looking around and wracking his brain for a solution.

Sayr returns in the keep, running, and try to find the infirmary, still trying to understand what is going on. She yells to try to know where the others are and on her way to the infirmary, tries to be as loud as possible.

The average village farmer shouldn't be too interested in the contents of the watchtower--they wouldn't be literate either, but it was important to be able to protect at least some people from this catastrophe. He takes out a bit of bark, and frantically scribbles a bunch of X marks on it. He wasn't a clean hand with a pen, and given the situation, there wasn't likely much which could be done.

     Hopefully that was a spooky enough 'stay away' sign.  He didn't want to drag out armor and pile it in front of the drawbridge.  It was terrifying enough as is, and now he was separated from the group.  Accordingly, he dashes back to where everyone was heading inside, stamping his hooves a bit before getting inside the building proper, where he immediately covers his muzle again.  
    The noise from the wolf is enough to draw his attention to her, and he zips right over, sticking very close.  And offering another bit of oils for her rag, should she need it.  "Be careful."  As if anyone needed to hear that, or it made any difference whatsoever.
 
The door into the keep proper is not locked or barred, but the scene inside is a strange one. It is comfortably warm inside, but everywhere you look, there are beings, soldiers, servants, attendants and all the other inhabitants of a waypoint like this, sleeping peacefully. Guards are slumped in hallways, officers slumber in their seats around tables, a cook and the black cackle she was no doubt about to kill for supper sleep together, leaning up against a great, iron pot. 

Wandering through the rooms provides little insight into why everyone sleeps, only that they do. The small infirmery is not different. Several beings, some with obvious wounds, sleep soundly on cots, while a pair of healers are curled up, snoring on cots of their own, tools and medicines left haphazardly around the room as if abandoned.

Zuri shivers as he looks around, despite the heat. "Yea, this is.. this is annoying and frightening now." He licks his tuskies as he explores the keep's main hall, stepping his way around the various sleeping beings. He picks out one of the officers, walking up towards him as he slumps against a wall. He shakes the soldier's shoulder. "Hey, sir! Sir!" He slaps across the poor being's cheek, trying to rouse him.

The Coyote's ears flick, and he looks around, eyes narrowing as if trying to pinpoint something. "...And there goes my mood," Mal mutters, glancing at the sleeping Beings. He nudges one with a foot and looks around again. "...Zuri, you hear that?" the Freesword asks, scratching at his ear. "Cuz I'm preeeetty sure I hear singing."

"There you go... Now that is really really creepy. But maybe you can get something from the wounded bodies since they're open" says Sayr interrogativelly. "Stay here, I going to tell the others about the infirmery and maybe they have some news too.", she then proceed to leave and run to meet the others.

Check the wounded, look for a Patient Zero. No progression on anything, really. They might as well be dead, but for the fact they were asleep. It didn't add up at all. He takes off his glasses to check for breath from one particularly quiet being, and they fog up, same as always. It just didn't make sense. "I--I don't like this." Best to get back to the group. He grabs the log book from the infirmary, despite not seeing anything immediately interesting, and follows Sayr back. "I don't---I don't see how there's anything we can do. At all." What could they do against a sleep which had no source?

"Child," comes a gentle voice behind Zuri, "What are you doing?" There is only a little, gentle reproof in the tone and as the Feeeswords scattered through the keep gather again in the main hall, they find Zuri confronted by a hunched being in a heavy, flowing, hooded robe. "Why don't you let them rest?"

The fox officer that Zuri was shaking rouses a little. "Wha-?" he stammers, looking round in confusion.

The robed being waves the staff that it holds in large, gnarled, three fingered hands and smoke wafts over the soldier from a censer of incense. His protests are stilled and he slumps down in his chair again.

Zuri lets out a very loud and obvious 'GAH!' as someone, or something, speaks up behind him. He turns around quickly, ready to jump at or be jumped by this evil, terrifying... uh.. old man? He watches as the being seemingly puts the guard to sleep with but a gesture, and his fingers flex as if he's readying himself to draw his knife. "Uh.. hi." He says to the other being. "Where did you come from.. Who are you? And why have you put them all to sleep?"

Mal turns to look at Zuri, before blinking. "Oh, good," he mutters, flicking his wrist and gripping the knife that falls from his sleeve. This Coyote's got a few tricks up his sleeve, that's right. "No need to wonder who was singing..." he adds, before raising his voice. "Yo, lady!" he calls. Looks like a lady, anyway. "Whatcha want?" Mal asks, looking the hooded figure over and squinting.

Sayr ready herself, taking a fighting stance and staying in front of Krove to protect him. She doesn't let anything past her attention. "If I understand, you're the expert for that sort of thing, I hope we can count on you." says Sayr to Krove.

Expert? Jsut because he was from Cliffside, didn't mean he tracked in such things as spirits! "Me? No. Nononono. This is magic far beyond my ken." For now, he was going to hide just as much, and see if he didn't have some prayer or tincture to throw at the thing in an emergency.

"I am Nott," says the odd being, in a low, female voice, unperturbed by the outbursts around her, "I am the lady of night and the bringer of restful sleep." She sways and shuffles toward the group, sweet sented smoke wafting from her dangling censer. "Why do you desturb these beings under my care?"

Zuri blinks. "You are not? That doesn't.." He pauses, and slowly his eyes widen. "Oh.. Oh! Ooooooohh.." He facepalms. A spirit. Of course. "Er.. under your care? It seems to me more like you've got them completely knocked out for.. maybe days? How long have they been asleep like this?" He steps back a bit, eyeing the smokey censer. "We've been sent here to make sure all these beings were okay and alive. Noone has heard from them for a long time." He licks his tusks out of habit.

"Oh, fuck me," Mal mutters. "Two out of two. First Tindalos, now...what, Nott?" The Coyote shakes his head, hesitating about throwing knives around just yet...

"So, uh. You with Vasht, too?" he asks, glancing to his companions as he talks. Yeah, yeah, he's mentioning Spirits left and right. So awful. "Or are you with, what's he called, the Sandman?" the Coyote asks, rather...casual about it all. Then again, it's not like he's about to get locked in a Treasure Vault and nailed to a wall...

Mal rubs his face, eyeing the Spirit apprehensively. "So, here's the thing. These guys, they kiiiinda need to be awake to do their jobs. It sucks, I know, but uh, yeah..."

Sayr says calmly to the spirit (while maintaining her stance): "Why did you make them sleep in the first place, I understand you're a spiritual being related to sleep but... What do you gain from that? You use your powers to make them sleep, if it's not to draw their energy then it's pointless and if you do we won't come along very well.". Sayr tries to not let any drop of sweat appear because of the stress and speak calmly and reasonably.

Nott, bringer of night--he didn't track with spirits. "You have failed spectacularly, then. If sleep is to be restful, it should have finished long before the sun rose." If she is the lady of night, then she ought to respect domains. "The sun shines, and you release those in your care, correct? Kindnesses, and such." Hopefully it was logical enough to undo whatever hold she bore.

"In sleep they are safe," Nott says, stroking the once more sleeping fox, "No worry, no cares, no fear or pain." She turns her long face toward Krove, a frown creasing her already wrinkled features. "What would you know of boundaries, little mortal," she asks, "What do you know of the higher realms and the low foundations? I am diligent in my work! I was called and so I came! I will decide when my work is done!"

The Spirit waves her staff, smoke pouring from it in white billows.

Sayr can't overcome the urge to sleep, she lies on the ground and start sleeping.

Zuri blinks heavy, droopy eyelids. "I.. I uh.. you really should.. let them wake up because.. " He lets out a loud yawn, opening his muzzle wide and slamacking his lips. "Wuh.. that was odd.. bit sleepy." He looks up at the spirit with unfocused eyes. "Beings have to eat, if you don't.. if they can't wake then they.. mm..." He snuggles up with the being he had tried to wake up before, very close to falling asleep.

The Coyote takes a step back, letting loose a yawn...and then snapping his jaws shut. He was here to do a job. "...I don't think so," he growls, waving the smoke away. "Ain't gonna let you do to me what you've done to everyone else," he says, looking to Zuri. "...Dammit, Zuri," he mutters, looking around at the others. They're good to go, right?

Sayr keeps her battle stance, not moving, like a rock, but, she feels dizzy, she starts to feel like the ground is getting closer to her eyes. Getting overwhelmed by the powder, she falls straight on her side like gravity got switched somewhere on the walls, now deeply sleeping.

The physician stumbles, but doesn't fall, keeping the poultice hard against his face. The collapse of one of their own has him already worried, and he tries to channel that fear into something productive. He's nearly cross-eyed, but he can fumble about for his smelling salts. As he pops open the cork, he breathes in deeply of the fumes. Unfortunately, this isn't the ammonia-based stimulant he was hoping for, but instead, a schnozz-full of black pepper. He's certainly awake, as he begins convulsing with sneeze after sneeze, violent explosions which he doesn't mind casually directing at the spirit, when he's able to function at all. For now, though, he's awake, but not exactly in the fight.

"Just rest," the Spirit says, "I will take your cares away and give you sweet peace in it's pla-" Nott blinks in confusion at Krove's sudden outburst of sneezing and looks from him to her smoking censer. "That has never happened before," he says, waving her staff once more through the air.

Zuri snuggles in, making little noises as he shifts in an unsettled manner. "Mmmf.." His stomach growls, growls loudly, and he winces and shifts uncomfortably. "So hungry...." He blinks, rousing slightly. "Mmm.. " He licks his little tuskies, his hand clutching at his front breast pocket and clutching at something inside. He slips his fingers in, and pulls out a golden coin clutched tightly in his fingers. "Mustn't sleep.. gotta eat.." He nibbles at the coin briefly, then opens his sleep-heavy eyes to look at the figure engraved on it. "Olloch.. gotta help me out here.."

Mal sways on his feet, before shaking his head and squinting at the Spirit. A look down at the knife in his hand, and he purses his lips. Drowsy with a weapon. There is no way this could /possibly/ go wrong...

With that last thought, Mal chuckles to himself and whips the dagger at Nott, smiling cheerfully. "How do you get a Spirit to go away, say its name three times?" he asks, before reciting, "Nott, Nott, Nott!"

Yanno. Like an Idiot.

Sayr stays asleep, silently breathing.

One does not clear a bepeppered schnozz easily. It's a powerful, potent spice, with quite vigorous effects on the body. He does fall over, though, still blowing bits of deer snot all over, but especially towards Nott, for each brief second he can see her before sneezing again. It's beginning to subside, perhaps, but at least it wasn't a terrible distraction.

Between the snot and the dagger that lodges itself firmly in the Spirit's long, thick neck, it is hard to say what seems to annoy her more.

"How dare you!" she roars, her voice like an avalanche! "How dare you treat me so! I am the handmaiden of Zimla! I was called! I do my duty!" The spirit opens her mouth and a deep, earthshaking note rolls out. A sudden wave of weariness slams into those still awake. Perhaps just a few moments of sleep would be-

Then the sound stops.

An immensely obese boar has suddenly appeared and, with one, fat finger, gently closed Nott's mouth.

"Tut, tut, my dear," he says in a wet sort of voice, "You have done an admirable job, I am sure. But now, I think, it is my turn." The fat boar turns a tusked grin on the party. "Zuri, dear boy!" he says, homing in on the little salamander, "It has been far too long!" He looks around at everyone. "I imagine you must all be FAMISHED," he says, "Especially all these drowsy layabouts. Nothing like a nap to really whet the appetite, eh?"

The sleepers around the room, almost as one start to moan and stir. And the boar's words are suddenly true. Gods and Monsters, everyone is suddenly STARVING!

Nott, for her part, just stares. Her lower lip actually starts to quiver, and a silvery tear starts to run down her cheek.

Zuri stretches and rubs his head, looking around with a half dazed look. The hand being used to rub his head drifts downwards to rub at his growling stomach instead, and he looks up at Olloch. A few more blinks, and his mouth parts into a big, bright smile. "Mister Olloch! You came!" He clambers up onto his feet and dusts himself off, then reaches for his breast pocket to retrieve another disc-shaped object, a biscuit. He nibbles on it as he sways towards the obese boar, trying to regain his senses. "Yea, I could eat! I haven't had a meal in twenty minutes!" He giggles and looks around, licking his lips. "Mmm.. wonder if there's anything we could roast up in this place."

Mal blinks slowly as a...Boar? Boar, appears out of nowhere. Oh, boy. More Spirits. The Coyote blinks at the rumbling in his stomach, before pulling out his flask and taking a chug from it. This'll tide him over quite well...

Mal glances over at Nott and clears his throat. "So, uh. Could I get that knife back?" he asks the Spirit, Handmaiden of Zimla. "Uh, preferably /without/ it getting buried in me? Like, just hand it to me..." He glances back to his flask and jiggles it, sighing. "Wish this thing was bottomless..." he mutters, taking another swig.

Feeling still a bit drowsy, she takes the time to recover her sight and movement and asks: "Hum... Can someone explain me what happened since I fell asleep and what's happening right now?"

Sleep, Hunger--there was nothing which could save Krove from this contemptible spirit filth! And he doesn't have anything to protect against the urge, even--nothing but spices he could chew! Dozens of scepters right down the drain--or, rather, the gullet. And they burn! Oh, how it burns. Basil, mint, jalap, coriander, all into the mouth at once, and all providing but little sensation of relief. But Krove was nothing if not spiteful, and this was not just the first, but the second instance in so many minutes of his own body being effectively hijacked by a spirit. Perhaps he could turn the tables around, with a gift of his own.... spirits were not wise to antagonize, but then, he wasn't happy about any of this.

"Mighty spirit--savior of us. Take this small gift, I offer in humility."  He was a terrible actor, and the pills in his hand were surely not appealing to the eye.  "May they leave you feeling cleansed and refreshed."  After all, that's what laxatives did, didn't they?
 
Nott turns her tear streaked face on Mal, a flicker of anger crossing her features. The knife that was lodged in her only a moment ago appears in her hand, her robes once more pristine and untorn. "I return to you your weapon," she says, her tone firm and bitter, "And with it my curse. You will never know my touch again, mortal. May peaceful sleep ever evade you!" She reaches out further and faster than seems possible, snatching Mal's hand and slapping his knife into it. There is a searing pain in his palm that is gone as soon as it came and for just a moment, the image of a wide open, staring eye appears on the coyote's palm, and the Spirit is gone. 

Probably just talk.

Right?

Olloch, in the meantime is grinning around as if he has just done a particularly good magic trick. "Now, then!" he says, and claps his hands, "Time to do something REALLY satisfying!" Suddenly, the great table in the center of the hall and the sideboards along the walls are overflowing with food and drink! The newly awakened beings, too hungry, both from natural causes and Spirit intervention do not question, but start to dig in to the sumptuous feast!

The Boar accepts the packet from Krove with a grin and a soggy chuckle. "It was my pleasure!" he says, "And I thank you for the gift! I am sure that I will be. . . cleansed by it." There is something about the Boar's grin and the twinkle in his eye that is unnerving.

Zuri grins wide as the feast unfurls before his eyes. "Mister Olloch, you shouldn't have!" Actually it's a pretty good thing he did, because he was about to suggest turning the horses outside into steak and ribs for everyone. The small salamander slinks away, only to return a few minutes later clutching a leg of lamb in one hand, a cream cake the size of his fist in the other, and several sweet candied apples stuffed in his pockets. He chews loudly as he looks up at his porcine patron, his mouth wide with a smile and wet with the juices from the well-cooked lamb. "Have some time to catch up Mister Olloch? It's been a while since we've had a proper party and I have so much to talk about!" The small salamander being slinks to the boar's side, forgetting about everything else as he cozies up with his patron.

Mal hisses in pain, looking at his palm and blinking. "...Well, it's not like I sleep restfully anyway," he mutters, glancing at the place where Nott had previously stood. "YOU WERE DOING A SHITTY JOB UP UNTIL THIS POINT ANYWAY," he calls to the wind, glowering as he slips the knife out of sight.

The Coyote looks over at Olloch, and then the table. "Got any vodka?" he asks, taking a seat at the table. "I could go for a bottle. Or two. Maybe four," he says, chugging the last of his own vodka form his flask. "...I'm probably going to need it."

Sayr keeps her manners right and accept the feast but don't eat too much, enough to sate her hunger but not more than that. It would be bad for a warrior to be off balance if anything happened...

Eyes wet with tears from his own spicy repast, the water deer tries to shuffle off. There's nothing good for him here. Only terrible spirits and even more terrible spirits. The food itself was surely tainted, and he had to get out of the situation. Nothing to do here-he just needs to get back in, and somehow cleanse his soul (and more importantly, perhaps, his palate) when he finally gets back to Firmament. Freeswording was not as easy as Benna made it sound. Probably because she was just incredible, whereas he was a physician with little talent for anything.