As the barkeep resupplied Ardur's mug, he passed another along to Magnus, filled to the brim with a sweet, honey coloured brew. Returning Ardur's gesture, he took the handle of his own drink and raised it, a half-smile crossing his lips. "And to our good fortune in figuring this mess out," He added to the toast. Whatever the cause of all this was, Magnus felt that it went deeper than any of them could have imagined. So many lives taken, their own now threatened, and for what? Religious fanaticism could bring a person to commit many an atrocity, but with such vigilance and apparent randomness in the attacks, he felt it more than just another budding holy war. Lason's motivations seemed much more personal as well. Not only were they faced off against some cult, but people in their service that didn't follow their doctrine? That complicated things.<br/><br/>Drinking deeply, Magnus turned to face Sheo as she made her way over to the small group. His eyes followed the bull's head for a moment, and as she plunged a knife into its skull and cut it apart like butter, his eyebrow cocked ever-so-slightly. His own meal arrived not moments later, so he stopped drinking and gave the innworker a quick thanks. A consideration of Sheo's question crossed his mind, and he gave a simple answer to it. "About four, and however many others accompany them. Don't suppose you missed that argument?" He asked jokingly. The display had been<span style="font-style: italic">quite</span>hard to miss, and even after it ended, some of the building's patrons were still staring down the two men that had just minutes earlier been engulfed in glows of various colour.<br/><br/>A corner of bread was torn from the small loaf provided alongside his soup, dipped into the thick broth, and summarily consumed. It was an immediate relief after a long day without eating, especially after the amount of power he had been outputting in what essentially boiled down to a mere threat display. He was used to drawing small orbs of holy power to heal wounds with, not surrounding himself with a cloud of holy lightning. In truth, the boy was hardly aware he<span style="font-style: italic">could</span>do such a thing. In the moment, he felt strong, more than he ever had before. But now, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit weary. Between the mining, forging, and parading around in a shiny new metal suit, he was already aching for a good rest. The flashy display of power was tiring as well.<br/><br/>In further attempts to quell the fatigue, he kept on eating, alternating between spoonfulls of the stew and bites of bread. Of course, he'd remain involved in the conversation, provided his mouth wasn't full. Minding one's manners was always important.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Verigan gave Atisha a nod in response to the apology. Dealing with dust and dank was one of the first steps into one's career in necromancy, and to some, the hardest. He certainly didn't blame her. Keeping close during the stroll away from the barrows, he balanced his cane along his shoulder, the skull atop it resting within his palm. His gaze turned onto the young elf as she began explaining the details of her party.<br/><br/>"A holy warrior, eh? Alesian?" He asked, tone more of curiosity than presumptuous distrust. Of course, an Alesian in the party would be all the more reason to keep their lessons under wraps. The fear of undead most held was more of a zero-tolerance hatred amongst most religious, and for very good reason. "Regardless, they all sound like a fun lot. We'll see if we can't make some new friends today."<br/><br/>Verigan stopped mid-step at the sight of a brilliant golem, the construction of which was obviously Alftari. "Oh my, what a beauty," He idly commented, walking forward and to the front of the crystalline being. His cane was used to prod about it, and he asked aloud to whoever may have been the creature's owner. "Where ever did you get this? I have seen many a golem in my day, but this one is<span style="font-style: italic">gorgeous!</span>I may just have to commission one from the builder!" He caught track of the situation again when Atisha began talking to Larteis, and immediately gathered himself with a clearing of the throat and a silencing to listen to him explain.<br/><br/>"Goodness, boy. This just isn't your lucky day, is it?" Verigan commented. Under his breath, he leaned slightly towards Atisha and whispered. "I assume this Bellant is a dragon?" He paused, and before even getting an answer, voiced some disbelief. "How do you<span style="font-style: italic">lose</span>a dragon?"