"Very well then, I'll make sure you have your room ready once you return from the table. If you'd like, we may even move your belongings for you. Although that will have to wait for now, we shouldn't delay", the servant responded to Freya, bowed quickly and made off. "Follow me", Cyrus simply remarked and started walking in a more relaxed pace. Harol did as suggested, although at an even slower pace to let Freya catch up to him.

Even now as they were making their way to the dining room, Harol noticed they were truly avoiding the main hall of the house, as they had when they had arrived earlier today. Why were they avoiding the room? He had gone to the dining hall before through there, and as far as he remembered it was the most direct route. He would need to ask lord Mortimer. Maybe not during dinner, but at some point later, just in case it was not something they would want to tell publicly, for they had not explained themselves yet. However, apparently there was an alternative way in that did not seem inferior to the one he remembered. Maybe they had multiple routes for just some odd reason? Whatever the case, the table was all set. The only thing that was missing was the food itself, but that was nothing odd. It would stay warmer in the kitchens anyway.

"Harol and Freya are here, lord Mortimer", Cyrus exclaimed and continued towards his seat in the table. It was a surprisingly small one, only big enough for six (and even then there were only four chairs), compared to the size of the hall, the lightly purple coloured walls of which were adorned with different paintings. Harol had always admired the one that was always directly behind Mortimer's back. It depicted, or at least Harol had been told it did, a powerful Oracle from ages beyond counting who had foreseen the rise of several magical houses under their protectors, and had been extremely accurate in small details of them, like Ishul'Shog's eye surrounded by a flaring mass. However, the painting had either taken many artistic liberties or the Oracle had been something very much inhuman, something Harol considered highly unlikely, although he had nothing to base these thoughts on.

As lord Mortimer and Cyrus sat on the other side of the table, Harol took the liberty of assuming the two chairs on the opposite side were for him and Freya, and decided to take the one further away from the entrance. A servant rushed to pull the chair from under the table and help Harol get seated, another one standing ready to do the same for Freya. One had also attempted the same with Cyrus, but they had dismissed the help with a wave of his hand. "Very well, I trust we are all ready!" lord Mortimer spoke up once the sounds of walking and moving chairs had ceased. "Today we will be having duck roast. One of my long time favourites, that. But first, of course, some soup to warm up the appetite!" As Mortimer finished speaking, the servants that had aided Harol and Freya started walking towards a door Harol assumed went to the kitchen. Soon enough all four of the participants had half-a-bowl of hot soup that smelled strongly of cheese. "Let us begin by honouring the will of Yurnero. May their infinite knowledge one day be passed to us of house Clasz, but that day is not today, for so do the prophecies say", Mortimer recited, with Cyrus chiming in as another voice during the second part. Harol stayed quiet, as Yurnero was not the protector of his house. "Now, let us dig in!" Mortimer finished, and raised his spoon.