The Elf’s eyebrow rose over her good eye. Grabbing the dark mop of hair, she slowly lifted its owner from hER crouch, and inspected hER with an odd gaze. “Of course, some of it appears to be a bit fresh for my tastes…” She did remember fighting alongside a few compatriots who’d eaten of their downed foes, but it’d take more than four hours of hunger for her to do likewise. “Out into the light, shall we?” she instructed the hidden person
The dwarf continue his way behind Nicolai towards the open doorway that the Elf had obviously entered, he heard her speaking—whether to herself again or to another he wasn’t quite certain, but still concerned about that lit fire he prepared his axe and quickened his step. “Saeth, is everything alright?” he called out.
Saeth appeared with a young Traladaran woman with long dark hair in toe. She wore non-descript, well-worn clothing, as well as an array of cheap jewelry. She was clearly scared of the group of interlopers who had invaded the castle.
“You’ll never believe what this wizard keeps in his pantry,” called Saeth, louder for the Dwarf’s benefit.
After completing he notes Miklos left the library and followed Feldard then he heard Seath’s voice.
The word ‘pantry’ reminded Miklos of how hungry he was. Ravenous in fat. It stood to reason that even Dentiata ate and it wasn’t likely that he had poisoned the food. Magi tend to be arrogant and it probably didn’t enter his head that he would be defeat in his own castle, especially as he was armed with that wand. “Save some for me Saeth, I could eat a banquet right now.”
Maruc looked round at the now empty room.
“Don’t mind me.” He said to himself petulantly.
He finished reading the titles of the last row of books. So much reading material. Many of the titles were beyond his understanding, dealing with the intricacies of arcania. He was looking particularly for anything pertaining to the Sons of Night or other texts that mentioned Nyx or Nithia, but if the wizard kept any materials of this kind, they were did not appear to be housed on the bookshelves. Then on a whim, he tested the walls for concealed doors (he found none) and lifted the carpet up (with nothing underneath it) before following the others into the Kitchen.
“Is this the cook, or is this lunch?”
“I am Ashira,” replied the woman, timidly.