[Suzerain of Sheol]

The Chaplain gives a tight nod toward Dante. "Of course." He gestures to his guard, who promptly marches out of the room, presumably to alert the kitchen staff.

"If there is one thing we have here, it is the semblance of civilization. Even for those of us who remember... it suffices. It is life of a sort, better than your usual fare, I'm sure." He smiles to show he means no offense by the comment. "I am Thomas, by the way. I've served in Zaccheus' clergy for nearly twenty years now, done some good I'd like to think. So." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "What of yourselves?"

Just as he says that, however, something stirs in the ether, subtle and quiet, a voice that only Na'lsa can hear.

Make no indication that you are hearing this. I am straining myself to my limits to mask my presence from the priest. Now hear me, through the blood of Cain that flows within us both. You must resist your hungers for a while longer yet. Something is coming, impending upon you even as this man bides his time. I believe it is the Celestrine himself. Na'lsa, listen to my words: you must proceed carefully. Do not make him your enemy, I do not believe he means us harm. This burden falls on you, I trust you to bear it. There will be many feasts to come, just see them through this.