[Suzerain of Sheol]

Out of breath from the walk, leaning heavily on his cane, Shealtiel stands with the others -- the lack of food any time in the past month, and his refusal to rely on capsules is beginning tax even his Sheol-granted resistance to hunger. Not to mention, he still has not quite recovered from his exertions in exorcising Mithaias' Dybbuk, and a deep weariness has set into his bones. If some new threat rears its head on this isle, there is little Shealtiel will be able to do to assist.

"These buildings look mostly preserved," he says, glancing around the square through half-shut eyes. "We may be able to find supplies, but we should be wary. I'm far too weary even to sense for hostile spirits. Feenai, Michael, can you detect anything?"