The broth is........... passable. Not great. Not bad. Just passable. There is a bit of a funky aftertaste to it, but likely nothing to worry about. Must be something in the mushrooms that were used to make it. It's warm and it sits in their bellies nicely enough. The group bids their farewells to the kitchen staff, who continue to go on about their business as if the group was never there, and then they try the door.
Time to head up to the fourth floor.
... Or not, because the door is locked. And at glance, Richie can tell that the tools he needs to unlock it are exactly the same tools he lost to the flooded mass grave downstairs. Wuh-oh.
They could cut it down. Or they could perhaps ask the kitchen staff for one last act of kindness. But when they try to do anything else — they find themselves feeling woozy. Disorientated. The ground beneath their feet ripples. The lights are too bright. Colors too intense. There's a sharp ringing noise.
(Maybe they should have worried about the mushrooms. This is Yves's cooking, after all.)
The kitchen staff turns to look at the group, their eyes now a bright red. And then, all of a sudden, they transform. No longer human, but horrible, beastly creatures. Screeching. Screaming. Advancing on them. Danger, danger, danger.
Taair, Adolphe, Richie and Hawke: Every atom in your bodies is screaming at you to get the fuck out of here. You have never been so certain of your own fucking mortality as you are right now. These monsters are a threat and they will kill you, of this you are sure.]
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The broth is........... passable. Not great. Not bad. Just passable. There is a bit of a funky aftertaste to it, but likely nothing to worry about. Must be something in the mushrooms that were used to make it. It's warm and it sits in their bellies nicely enough. The group bids their farewells to the kitchen staff, who continue to go on about their business as if the group was never there, and then they try the door.
Time to head up to the fourth floor.
... Or not, because the door is locked. And at glance, Richie can tell that the tools he needs to unlock it are exactly the same tools he lost to the flooded mass grave downstairs. Wuh-oh.
They could cut it down. Or they could perhaps ask the kitchen staff for one last act of kindness. But when they try to do anything else — they find themselves feeling woozy. Disorientated. The ground beneath their feet ripples. The lights are too bright. Colors too intense. There's a sharp ringing noise.
(Maybe they should have worried about the mushrooms. This is Yves's cooking, after all.)
The kitchen staff turns to look at the group, their eyes now a bright red. And then, all of a sudden, they transform. No longer human, but horrible, beastly creatures. Screeching. Screaming. Advancing on them. Danger, danger, danger.
Taair, Adolphe, Richie and Hawke: Every atom in your bodies is screaming at you to get the fuck out of here. You have never been so certain of your own fucking mortality as you are right now. These monsters are a threat and they will kill you, of this you are sure.]