Jerrick raised an eyebrow at the different floating pieces of food hovering up towards the ceiling and back down again with bites taken out of them. He wasn't quite sure why the cutlery was going up and back down either. He didn't say a word, though. He trusted Meesei enough to understand that her actions had purpose.

Meesei herself would have no reaction to the food in terms of stopping poison. There didn't appear to be any trace on the food. Still, Jerrick was adamant on leaving the food alone for the night. It wasn't the first time he had ever gone hungry for a day.

Hours passed further and Jerrick began to pale almost imperceptibly. Occasionally, he would cough quietly through his nose. Over about five minutes, the coughing slowly became more frequent and violent, until he finally coughed hard out of his mouth into his hand. When he inspected his palm to see what he assumed to be phlegm, he instead saw a pool of a thick black liquid. He started to shiver and looked slowly up to Meesei with a face laced with fear. Rivulets of the same black substance dribbled from his lips and it looked as if the veins in his face were darkening with it as well, painting gruesome black lines across his now milk-white skin. He opened his mouth to talk, but only more liquid dribbled out. He still mouthed 'help'.

Harriet angled her head forward and looked up at Lorag with almost a glare. "What? Are you thick? I'll tell you what. You're the only tough orc to come by in the past eight or so years and I like you. So, do you want to lay or don't you?" Harriet's head turned slightly sideways with a new thought, though she didn't seem to want to let go anyway, "Wait, you aren't paired with the champion are you?"