[Salone]

"I FEED!"

Na'lsa ripped into one of the writhing corpses mouth first, tearing muscle and tissue from a leg. He paid no attention to the rest of the body trying to resist, only enough to devour it. It was sickening, sweet, astonishingly refreshing and disgustingly putrid all at the same time. Every bite and swallow was a joyous bliss of agony ebbing away in to nothingness. Every mouthful was his mind piecing itself back together. After a moment, he possessed enough of himself to truly be that - himself.

He took a moment to collect his wits, staring at the bodies writhing on crosses. Dybbuk. The undead. Fresh ones at that, but that wouldn't last very long. Souls tortured, none delivered to their true place. However...

With great force he ripped the other leg from his partially eaten meal. He took it with him, biting in to it as he made his way back towards the party and the mysterious man. He spoke in his oil and sandpaper voice, more calm and composed than he had been just a few minutes ago.

"So tell me tall one, of the corpses you keep...they are not merely snacks kept for company, are they? If so you are a gracious host indeed. But of course, in this day the gracious host is the one to be wary of. What is this place, if I may ask?"