[h3][color=bedded][b][center] Thomas Richard Harrison [/center][/b][/color][/h3]
[center][indent][color=bedded][i]Location:[/i][/color] The Crossed Swords.
[color=bedded][i]Interacting with:[/i][/color] No one. [/indent][/center]

Thus spake the cosmos. And whatever going ons happened in the kitchen and bar were a mystery to Thomas. Eventually he'd snap out of his meditations to grab a meal and fuel is non-cosmic self. Keystone, as intimidating as the man was, did make some nice food. Heavy rich hearty things, though far better than the simple raw fruits and veggies. Crudités, quick and simple to prepare, and none to complex for a farmboy. Thomas wasn't a vegetarian, but he did tend to avoid eating animal flesh when possible. True it isn't horse meat, or at least to the best of his knowledge, but beef was still pieces of a cow, and ham a pig. Chickens were farm birds and mutton was far more cuddly when still alive. Some sympathy for the live of the animals that had to die so someone could enjoy a steak. And to eat it in such a wolfish manner, bread and butter was fine, but tearing away at flesh like a ravenous ghoul?

Ah yes, the undead ghoul. A bit of a problem was it not? Something which stirred in Thomas' mind. It was a curious question of who was making the trouble. One yet to be seen answered. Although Thomas was always a man who chased after knowledge and this vexing question of who nearly made it impossible to clear one's thoughts and connect with the celestial seas. A vampire? A necromancer? Someone with magic, but who was doing it? Certainly not Thomas, he had no training in the darker arts. That and his magic did not tap into the forces of life and undeath. Or could they? Something to consider experimenting on. After they leave this place. Or after He leaves this place. Thomas was still unsure of his role in the group. Consulting wizard maybe?

Taking after his Master Wolfgang...