Testicules had opted to stand outside of the tavern and stylishly puke for a bit, resulting in a shocking yet unsurprising sight. Rows of small wooden buildings meshed with one another messily and with no sense of order. Villagers that were few in number strolled through the dusk. Their walking was quiet and quick, a small sign that lingering outside during the night would be a bad idea in this world. The general effect of both the land around him and the hundreds of stars in the sky was one of wonder. 

Amidst the rapidly approaching curtain of night a certain lone individual could be seen wandering about, as if in a trance. Glimpses of their silhouette could be faintly made out at the appearance of a torch wielding guard doing his usual rounds. It was hard to tell exactly who this person was. Gradually though, they approached Testicules. A brief period of sniffing followed.

[color=lightblue]"You. You are one of them. The smell of spices not of this world lingers on you."[/color]

She was some sort of humanoid, with her delicate face being swallowed up on both sides by a messy mop of brown hair and a garment that looked more like a trenchcoat than anything resembling medieval outerwear. Her monotone and serious voice gave off a feeling of restraint. The uppermost button of her clothing wrapped snugly along her chin and did funny things to her enunciation skills. [color=lightblue]"Follow me, intruder. The protection of you and your companions is vital."[/color]

The general state of affairs from within the tavern was approaching a point where it could only be described using exotic curse words and comic book onamotopoeia noises for every time someone had their spinal cord rearranged. In the old world, the most intense fuel that could keep a fight going was either functional alcoholism or poor life decisions, both which tended to limit the possible outcomes substantially. This world had chair mimics and bartenders who required a valid killing liscence to receive employment, so fights were understandably a more colorful affair. The strange woman slammed the doors open to make a statement and then exhaled a sigh of resignation at having failed to garner any attention whatsoever. Her hands darted to the enormous handles to do it again but then stopped at having developed a better idea. 

She calmly and neatly detached her head, revealing herself to be a dullahan, which in this world wasn't too much of a surprise. A quiet incantation escaped her lips, one that Testicules could've sworn sounded like her saying "Kobe". In one swift movement, she flung her head like a basketball player and had it crash land onto the pile of snacks. 

[color=lightblue]"Hello, I am Miska, head mage of the council of stability."[/color] muttered her head, causing a mild snap to the table's aged wood with the force of its impact.

She licked dorito fragments that had sprayed on her lips and continued to speak as if nothing had happened. 

[color=lightblue]"This is a dire warning to all of you not from this world. Your aura and scent is detectable and you are all in grave danger. The council of stability, located seven buildings to the left, will offer answers to your no doubt endless multitude of questions. Not eight buildings to your left, as that is a domesticated house mimic. Not six buildings to the left, as that is a family bar and grill."[/color] Her dainty head scanned around to make sure she was being listened to. 

[color=lightblue]"Additionally, I will ask that one of you reattach my head to my body, which is currently flailing around the entrance unless your skeletal companion has decided to stabilize it. I wish to return to the council, and require assistance."[/color]