The thought of this place’s constant filth was something that Virgyl could not quite push out of his mind. He had grown quite fond of his robes of the Administratum and felt a little disheartened for every little smudge that got onto them, while they wandered aimlessly around at a crawling pace. They might have avoided the toxic death of the hive, but it remained as dirty wherever they went. Virgyl missed sitting at a desk, attending papers - he even missed being bullied about by the Scriveners. At least all of that was clean, sterile, and tidy.

It seemed that his mind had wandered a bit too far, as he noticed with a sudden gasp that the party had reached some sort of civilisation. While he felt hope rekindle for a moment, it didn’t take long for him to realize that this was most possibly a quite lowborn society, with few luxuries and more distasteful issues than someone of his stature could stand. No, he had already decided that he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

He was just about to air his opinion to the rest of the party when he noticed the brute man approach the party. Any and all negative comments that Virgyl had in mind died just then, just there. He even couldn’t muster the courage to protest towards the lowborn’s, Ethel’s, open approach towards the man, but instead made a frown. A silent, disappointed frown.