Yithare was a bit confused by the sudden hospitality. He had been used to cruel treatment in his time being captured. As he was relieved of his shackles, he rubbed his neck where the chains had constrained him. Though the chains were constraining, in a way, he had become accustomed to them, almost missing their cold embrace. But now, there was freedom. Freedom to a degree, that is.

Memories of long weeks spent in damp cellars clawed their way to the surface, reminding him of what a luxury this was. So, he allowed himself to let his guard down, for the moment. What were the chances that this was all some elaborate ruse, to accomplish some offbeat goal? Nay, for the first time in quite awhile, he would allow himself to relax- even though he walked among some of the most lethal men to even have hunted his kind.

The speech given was of no interest to him, though his attention was tugged at upon the mention of demons. As the elf spoke of how dangerous these creatures were, he thought of the one trapped for eternity beneath his wooden mask. Yes, demons were powerful- Yithare knew better than anyone the raw power that could be tapped from the fiery beasts. He had seen dozens fall before his brethren, screaming in pain and horror as the fire engulfed them. Just the thought of it brought some of the light back into his eyes. Looking around the room, he entertained the thought of letting a demon loose- see how many he could kill.

The thought was enough to remind him of the cuffs on his wrists. Though they did not actually restrict his movement, they did render his magic to be all but useless. Yet still- perhaps he could convince them to take them off- many of those in the room believed him to be benign, for the time being. But no- there was too much doubt in the room for that to happen. Before he did anything to cause a scene, he turned down to the food before him, to focus his mind on something, or anything else.

From the plate came a melody of aroma, an assault on his senses. Even before the assault on his tribe, Yithare had never seen the likes of it, more used to bland foods, tasteless bowls of gruel made only for sustenance. He was even unsure of what made up half of the plate. Was that a flower? Still, now there was no time to be wasted. Eyes gazing across the plate, he took only what would provide the most nutrients to him. Though there was no literal rule set down, in his tribe, it was something ridiculed to eat anything simply for flavor. He did notice what appeared to be a small bowl of sauce. He was a bit interested, as much of the local cuisine had some. So, trying not to draw any attention to himself, he gulped it down, in a quick motion. Fire filled his mouth, the pain blossoming out, seemingly worse than when he was on the receiving end of demonic punishment.

After relieving the pain with a quick gulp of water, he took a quick glance back around the room, glad he had enough pain tolerance to not draw any adverse attention by making a scene. Still, perhaps a trained eye or two would have noticed his discomfort, however slight it was. Without wasting any more time, he left, adjourning to his room, led by the servant. All throughout the trip, the servants eyes remained trained of Yithare, an almost scared look blanketing his face. Yithare thought to acknowledge it, confront the whimpering man, but he held his tongue, rather than scaring him further. With a polite nod to the servant, he stepped into the room, looking around.

Though there was still the awe that this entire castle brought about, he had begun to expect a certain degree of luxury from this place. He was almost uncomfortable here, but he surely looked forward to when their mission begun. He would finally be back where he belonged. He would like to see some of these men try to survive. Even if they didn't have to deal with witches, e doubted these men could brave the harsh elements, outside of their luxurious palaces.

Then, that brought up another issue he would face. He was unsure of how he would deal with the fact that his brethren were being slaughtered. Though he had seen the blight delivered upon the land by these witches, he had once been with them. Surely though, he couldn't be held responsible for the killings should he sit back and watch the battles take place. Perhaps while the hunters were distracted with murder, he could make a run for it? Or, on a more macabre train of thought, he could stab them in the back, and join back with the witches. But no- these men seemed to be skilled in their craft, even if they were a bit overzealous in their extravagances. So, he decided that he would play out the circumstances, until he could make up his mind. So, after arranging his few possessions, he went to sleep on the rooms bed, unable to get quite comfortable in the plush thing.