As people trailed into the Oasis, they would find that the name was apt. A rather ritzy lounge consisting of green velvet and yellow crystal chandeliers greeted their eyes, as well as a sturdy wooden desk with the little old timey ring-a-ding bell. Portraits and oil paintings lined the walls, all tastefully done but rather formal looking and stiff. And the bar was basically stockpiled with a literal rainbow of spirits, seeing as they ranged through the color spectrum and in every shape and size. All in all, it had the feel of a place that expected one to fork over a rather substantial amount of money just to be in. 

And yet, the strangest thing was that no one was here. Judging from the newspapers and half filled glasses, it was obviously used. And yet there showed no signs of struggle. It was as though everyone had vanished into thin air. Well, all except for one. Tucked away in a rather dim corner of the building was a comfy armchair. With the lighting darker than just about everywhere else and the location being out of the ways, it was hard to pay attention to it at first. But then one heard the telltale sound of a newspaper's pages being flipped and one realized that someone was there.

Said someone looked as though someone had cut out a shadow, turned it three dimensional, and made it solid enough to be able to interact with the physical world. It was in the general shape of an average man, with no discernible features other than being humanoid. One leg was crossed over the other comfortably, and several rings of cigarette smoke puffed away from behind the printed pages which were loosely held between hazy black fingers. "As to answer your question, it was I who brought it here from its original world and time period." A rather gentlemanly voice said from behind his black and white cover, unhurried and yet not at all disrespectful. The statement was said at normal speaking levels, and yet it would resound rather clearly to anyone in or near enough the Oasis. 

Shiroe jerked his hand a bit at the unexpected sound of someone actually answering one of their questions, his grip hardening on the white staff as he looked about for the voice and settled his gaze on the darkened corner with even darker being in it. The Enchanter readied a spell, ready to use in case things turned out for the worst. And yet nothing happened. The... being tucked away in the corner obviously knew important information, but Shiroe himself did not step forward. As a magician, he was to support everyone from the back with either magic or advice. Keeping his attention all about him, he narrowed his eyes. "...Who are you?"