"More like a dragon, and with a title no less," Nyenna says, idly examining her fingernails. "And an excellent voice. Scarin' people with it must be some fun."

"Pfeh. Lizard, dragon, the only difference is that one has an attitude."

"A fine menu from which to sample with selections to satisfy every palate. I like this bunch already. I've never had dragon before. I wonder how sublime they might taste." Lilith says, staring at Orson as he stares at her.

"I will show you the difference little man, and when my lesson is complete--we will revisit this conversation." The Dragonborn said as he continued to stand, apparently not one for sitting.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:25, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

In reply to Balasar (msg # 33):

Orson leans back, a sharp, barking laugh escaping from him as he does so. "I've gotta say, you might be my favorite out of all of these fools. No bullshit, just plain fighting words."

"There're differences, if y'know what yer lookin' for," Nyenna lifts one hand and ticks off examples on her fingers: "There's the magic, 'vcourse; then there's the breath, and the warm blood, and the extra set of limbs; 'n' by all accounts I've heard, dragons walk like cats. Scales don't make a lizard any more'n hair on top of the head makes a human."

She smiles a little. "Though I do agree about the words. I do very much appreciate a good set of fightin' words... though not as much as a good fight."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:37, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

Suddenly dark raspy voice comes from the doorway "Indeed. Good, you are all present. I was wondering if I would have to go looking for some of you.", a robed gaunt and skeletal figure walks into the room, the empty eyesockets that look over each of you in turn possess a glow deep in them. The Lich seems to float above the ground as he makes his way to the head of the table "Your Master's speak well of each of you, I am pleased to see that it is not an exaggeration... yet."

To not be an ungracious host the Lich pulls out bowl and clicks his boney fingers once and the table is quickly filled with an assortment of food and drink that is acceptable to each of your unique tastes "I have little need for such things, but I still have my manners. Do enjoy and we'll get down to business."

For those magically inclined, he just finished casting Heroes Feast.

In front of Orson is a plate neatly divided into two halves. The right half is a pile of roasted vegetables, gleaming with oil and smelling of salt and garlic. On the left half of his plate his a sizable piece of meat, from an indeterminable origin, charred and cut in half to reveal a red center. Orson's eyes widen, and he reaches down to grab a carrot, his focus completely taken by the food.

Lilith picks up the crystal decanter and uncorks it, pouring the red liquid into a delicate glass which she holds as one would a fine wine. She gently inhales the aroma and her eyes half close.

"Elvish and a fine vintage," she takes a delicate sip and breathes deeply as a flush rises, visible even on her dark skin. "A fine vintage indeed."

She raises her glass in toast to the Lich.

The food before Xul was more the startings of a meal. Bloody, uncooked meat would occupy a large bowl which the lizardman promptly scooped off the table and once more crouched in his corner, casually grabbing a thick chunk of raw meat to his jaws and tearing into it. His yellow eyes glanced over the lich warily but he continued eating... or more accurately gorging on a raw bloody mess of flesh...

Markus takes a strong whiff of the food. There were few pleasures in life he allowed himself. Food was a necessity not a luxury. However, the man could not hide the angry growls generating from his stomach. Taking a bite of a lamb shank the Paladin closes his eyes and lets a brief moment of satisfaction cross his face.

Taking a long drink of ale the paladin clears his voice and addresses the Lich.

"Your gratuity is appreciated ancient one. You honor us with your selection."

Markus knew this powerful being could snuff out the life of every one in this room with little effort.

Makaria's eyes went wide with an almost giddy expression on her face when she surveyed the feast before her.  While her side of the table was not quiet as raw as Xul's, it could certainly give his a run for its money in terms of its strangeness.  In one bowl was a quivering jelly that glowed with a pale phosphorescence, beside which rested a small shot glass of clear liquid.  With almost reverent hands she poured the glass on top of the still quivering goo, which promptly began making a high pitched whining noise as smoke or steam began to escape from it.  She bent down at the table and inhaled these deeply, a look of supreme satisfaction on her face, before scooping the bowl up with one armored gauntlet and bringing it to her lips.  Beside that was a tray of brilliantly colored mushrooms and a small bowl of dipping sauce that to Lilith's keen nose smelled delightfully like congealed blood, though from a race she didn't recognize.  Beside that was a large bowl of some sort of broth, fluffy masses of some unidentifiable brown sponge providing obstacles for small silver fish still swimming about within it.  These two were brought one handed to the Tiefling's mouth, alternating between one and the other, and always with only her left hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:53, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

"I see you've developed a taste for the rather refined food of the Drow, Makaria,  though I must admit to a lack of familiarity with the vintage into which your mushrooms are meant to be dipped."

Lilith leans back into her chair and takes another sip from her wine glass.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:36, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

Nyenna eyes the food suspiciously, leaning over the plate to sniff everything on her plate as if sure it must be poison. Once she's finished with her examination, she watches the others until she seems content that they aren't keeling over. Only then does she tentatively start on what looks like a generous portion of blood sausage.

The rest of her food reveals expensive tastes for an apparent uncouth street-rat: rare venison steak, pheasant drumsticks over mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, heavily-seasoned fillets of white fish, creamed spinach, several slices of cured back bacon, herbed string beans, and a handful of candied figs. Beside the platter is a large mug of dark brown ale and a smaller plate containing a small loaf of white bread, half a wheel of soft cheese, and an assortment of berry tarts.

Once she's had a bite of the sausage and found it devoid of poison, Nyenna eats ravenously with little regard for manners or cutlery. She seems somewhat interested in Makaria's food as she does so, though she makes no move to ask for a bite.

Markus' brow furrows in confusion as he watches the Tiefling injest her "food". The paladin glances around at the various odd and ravenous displays of his colleagues. Dropping the shank back on his plate he takes another long drink before turning his attention back to the Lich.

Markus has officially lost his appetite.

"What's wrong, Markus? Food not to your liking? You're welcome to a sip of mine. It's warm and fresh. Or...could it be the company? Are the rarefied sensibilities of the Aasimar offended by his dinner companions?"

Lilith's smile is mocking as she looks at him. "Perhaps you'd like a taste direct from the source." She raises a finger and, as he watches, the nail extends into a very sharp claw which she draws across the top of one of her breasts.

"More to your liking?" She asks as blood wells up from the wound.

In reply to Lilith Darkmoore (msg # 45):

Seeing the blood well upon her breast did indeed make the paladin's heart skip. The iron taste of blood filled his mouth as flashes of his "conditioning" overwhelmed his senses. The inquisition took special interest in the Aasimar and their tools dulled over the decades of their teachings.

His face formed into a smile and his eyes stared through the table before him . "Be careful what you ask for Lilith. Asmodeus has shown me true pain, and true ecstasy." His hand idly clutches a knife near his plate, unconsciously digging it into the surface. "Being with me may very well be your last night." His words are deliberate and tainted with a seductive tone.

"But we are not here to fuck, and fuck my sensibilities. We are here for one purpose and one purpose alone. To root out those that oppose the Citadel and our dark lord. Save your poisoned tongue and used cunt for fool desperate enough to fuck a corpse." The paladin stares emptily at the drow, his smile recedes before he finishes his cup.

The Vampire's eyes flash briefly before a slow smile forms on her face and she licks the claw she used to open her flesh.

"Praise to Lord Asmodeus as is his due but I have traveled to lands undreamt of in search of pleasures both grotesque and sublime. They sights I have been shown..."

She licks her tongue against her very sharp teeth and smiles as blood is drawn. "Is that a challenge, Markus? Do you think you could survive the time I would spend knowing your flesh? Feel the warmth of mine own and tell me I'm a corpse then. Lie with me one night and let us see who makes the other scream. Aasimar."

She whispers the last and the stress on the word 'Aasimar' is quite apparent.

"It tastes like home."

She responded to the Vampiress, and there was a longing to her voice that had not been there before.  She gestured towards the bowl of congealed crimson.

"Rothé."

Was all she added, the strange sounding word very natural on her tongue.

When the Aasimar lost his appetite, she paid him no heed.  The Angelspawn probably ate cheese, a truly revolting thought.  Ah, no, there was the vile stuff.  Right next to the gunslinger, how demeaning.  She suppressed a shudder, and continued listening in on her new found companions as they began to verbally spar.  It wasn't an exercise she was interested in joining in, and she could learn just as much listening in on the outside as she could a participant.  So she sat, and watched the predator test the Aasimar's mettle.  QUickly, the conversation spilled secrets.  Not particularly valuable ones, considering how freely they were given, but secrets none the less.  A disciple of Asmodeus then, that certainly made him more interesting.  Few of his blood deviated from their baser natures, but Asmodeus was the great tempter after all.  It certainly explained why the Vampire's charms were so ineffectual.  Who could be tempted by another after they'd tasted the Archdevil's touch?

A stupid question, she knew.  Indulging in temptation just led to desire for new temptation, that was the whole point.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:42, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

Nyenna gulps down a mouthful of ale and wipes her mouth on her sleeve. "M'pologies for the poor manners; m'not the refined type 'n' it's not often I get to eat this well." She nods to the lich, speaking loudly enough to cut across the others' verbal sparring. "Much appreciated, Inquisitor."

Goltinder was served a dinner with boeuf bourguignon (beef casserole cooked in red wine), fried potatoes, salad and Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte (black currant tart including chocolate and whipped cream).
However, he was looking at the drink of the vampiress and as she said it was elven vintage,
he asked the master: "Is this the necromantic version of heroes feast where ingredients of living beings are taken from random subjects in the vicinity? I mean, is an elf or half elf nearby suddenly missing a pint of blood? I've never studied the spell in detail, but as I understand it, it doesn't discriminate between friend and foe when the ingredients are gathered, does it?"

Goltinder was feeling a bit nauseated as he pondered the possibility that it was actually his own blood in the vampiress' glass.

"Ah yes, the beasts of burden. Their flesh is tender and tasty if one's appetites are given to such things. I remember partaking of them before. Shame to waste your time on such bland fare when there are other delicacies one could indulge in. Those mushrooms go well with a bowl of tender, young elf."

She takes a drink from her glass and refills it from the decanter. "Like this one was."

Orson looks from Markus to Lilith and back in a very well concealed state of horror. It is only now beginning to dawn on him the type of people he will soon be working with.

Lilith's eyes open and her nostrils flare though she doesn't look in any particular direction. "I smell fear...it gives the blood a powerful top note when one drinks from those afraid."

She swirls the liquid in her glass. "This one was afraid."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

A hint of distaste colors Nyenna's features, though only for a few seconds.

"Most elves are these days," she growls, then stops her own mouth with a sizable chunk of venison.