The reasonably polite manner that the eye patch clad girl addressed him in made Lorne's anger recede just a tad. He couldn't well be too hard on a cripple, especially if they went about apologizing for the whole affair. For lacking an eye, she was a rather observant little lady. It was an impressive feat to tell he was from Ferox just on the few scraps of fur and tarnished old armor he wore on his person, although he supposed he had many tells outside of the clothing he wore. He nodded to confirm this, moving to speak, only to be interrupted by her wistful musings about... frozen bodies and peeling skin? He'd have likely called her out on it, had somebody else further down the winding halls shouted out for her. The 'dark spell lass' part did well in revealing her oddities. He had always heard dark mages, the cowardly spell slinging bunch that they were, tended to be quite unhinged. It was probably for the best that she bid him farewell after this, disappearing into the corridors as quickly as she had appeared with a vague promise to stab him in the eyes.

**"... Ylisseans are fuckin' weird."** Was all the barbaric mercenary had to say on the subject, muttering under his breathe as she disappeared around the corner. He had half a mind to follow her, simply as a way to get out of the god forsaken castle, but he didn't want to deal with some mage trying to pull his eyes out. Thus, when he heard the girl's voice resonating through the halls a short while later he bothered not to turn around and trace the source down. It was a wise choice, considering her later heard some kind of explosion from that general direction. One he cracked up to some failed magic, based on his own bias towards it. The further he got from her, the better. That choice did come with the unfortunate implications of leaving him with nary and idea where the exit to the castle was. He wandered for a while long, popping in and out of empty rooms and banging on locked doors to try and get some semblance of direction.

 Whatever gods there might've been blessed him after what seemed like an eternity of endless wandering; a blur of panicked Ylissean passed him by with what seemed like another blur latched onto his arm. Another two came running behind them, a cute looking female and some kind of noble from the better look he got at them. Figuring it was his best chance at escape, the Feroxi warrior gave chase to the little convoy of soldiers of nobility to wherever they were trying to get in such a rush. He managed keep on the ass end of their group until they eventually came upon some kind of ball room... which, to his delight, held quite a bit of food and quite a few lovely dames. Without illusion of social grace or tact, the barbarian waltzed in behind the fancy-pants noble as he introduced himself as a Valmese lord and took a seat next to a girly looking fellow. **"Nobody told me we were havin' a feast."** He snarked as he trotted confidently over to the table and, if nobody stopped him, plopped himself down to the cutie who had rushed by him earlier and her friend, whom he assumed was some kind of highborn lady herself. 

**"What're we havin'?" **He asked, without the slightest bit of irony with how... out of place he seemed, in the presence of such high born and well dressed folk. He never did quite respect the class structure.