The Stranger turned to the sound of more voices emerging from their cells. The reanimated creature of armor paced by them before snapping in the direction they were looking, hissing a soft, [b]"Whhoo?"[/b] with an ambient rumble of bellows against coals. The tone of the beast was unable to be distinguished as far as motives were concerned, though it was considerably calmer than it was in its previous form. The Stranger lowered a hand to in front of them; a closed fist before extending a thumb and an index finger as if counting. After a brief pause, the fiery construct tilted to a side before rumbling, [b]"Ooh...mooore!"[/b] The Stranger nodded to the creature, clapping lightly and gesturing eagerly with both hands for Damien and Pox to follow them.

It was the creature that seemed to perceive River's question about the cells. [b]"Thhheey whhoo hooolldsss...ahh...tooowwer...[i]taaall[/i]...and...[i]deeeeeeep[/i]"[/b] it rumbled as if to impress upon her the indescribable dimensions with low fluttering tones, The Stranger having folded their arms and started off around the corner at the mention of this 'They Who Holds'. The creature seemed to take notice of this and 'looked' between River and then the others before sauntering off to keep pace with The Stranger Who gestured to them with a twirl of a finger and then a gesture of 'four'. In response, as it walked, its back end tilted up to Nale before saying, [b]"Aaalll...hooolllow poteehhnnntiaall. Vooiids...tooo be fiiillled"[/b] This response did not seem to please The Stranger who made a sound akin to sighing. The closest thing to a voice from them so far, the sigh was less annoyed and more...sad. Like a disappointment in the explanation being a far cry from what sentiment they hoped to convey. They knew these people deserved answers for what they've been through to reach this point, but their own words and bare metaphors offered by a guard was hardly appropriate.

They would apologize, if they could.

Reaching the barracks The Stranger took the first two steps down to the lower region where the table sat below the beds, for obvious reasons as the stains painted the steps and floor before draining in through grates at either end. Though it all seemed dry...if not crusted...The Stranger recoiled, stumbling back at the sight and tripping on the top step before collapsing on the ground and scrambling to the wall on the other side of the hall. "[color=6ecff6]A moment to catch your breath should be okay[/color]" The stranger seemed to agree in spite of their episode. They tapped their fingers on the ground and appeared to take a deep breath before standing and shuddering but remaining where they were, leaning against the wall and holding their mask with hands over their eyes.
The creature, meanwhile, strode over past Nale explaining the bit about a construct, pausing to lift a hand in greeting before continuing to pace the room around the room as if on patrol.
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The door to the storeroom swung open, clattering off of the stone on the other side of its hinges. From deep in the recesses of the storeroom, a few voices chattered before one spoke up. "Fek y'oll want? Late?" the voice came with an dry croak. From an alcove waddled a newt-looking figure clad in leathers. Four eyes, two on each side of a broad head sporting a vertically-split mouth that puffed on a strangely familiar looking pipe for Jericho. This one, however, looked fresh, like a recreation newly made to exact dimensions. Comically, they bore an eyepatch covering one of the eyes on their left side. "Blegh! Close th'door, fek! Let'n fek'oll tha smell a fek'n about meh fek!" The old toad rambled, waving a hand before a third and fourth hand reached from around their back to unscrew a small ornate wooden box. Swiftly, the series of fingers tapped and packed the pipe before holding a flint and tinder to a wooden cup of wooden fibers. With a well-practice strike, it only took a second before they dumped a curled ember into the pipe. "Well? Need som'fin made or y'checkin out mi'tits?" The newt barked, a few heads poked out from around where they'd come. Similar faces with different patterns on their flesh, about four that hung back.

"Boss, eeh..." One chimed in, pointing to Jericho before Two added, "We...k-keep eit down?" Three glared at Jericho and his corpse-y entourage, "Neva seen 'em before..." They narrowed their eyes before withdrawing.

Neatly stacked boxes lined the shelves running across the walls. Shortly after Three disappeared, the sound of grinding could be heard from a ways back.
The main hall extended for nearly two-thirds of the storeroom's space, likely considering a mirrored setup from the neighboring barracks setup. It ended in a cross shape before extending into a second cross shape and ending. From the noise of the assumed foreman shouting, other small faces emerged from crates and farther down the hall around corners.