Vilkas followed the group along the tour, noting places of interest and things he wanted to see. It reminded him of Dromon's cave, with the subtle traces of residual magic. Even though he couldn't see the magic without arcane vision, he'd always been attuned to it. From in had said this was the first sign that the Old Way had chosen him. Walking the halls he placed a hand along the walls, feeling, the subtle nearly undetectable hum of ancient magic. It felt almost as old as the Cave he spent a decade in. The Castle couldn't compare to this and Descartes kept the entire thing afloat with his magic and the anomaly, which he had come to realize was Dromon's first attempt at Runeword magic.

If the rooms, he noticed there was no smithy, he was a bit saddened but figured not a lot of people would be interested in the same things as him. He had come to enjoy the harsh blaze of the gorge and creating unique enchantments. He made a mental note to ask R later. When they came to their rooms he placed his hand on the door with his name.

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Pushing open the door he stopped and stared. A massive landscape, covered in clouds and the moon overhead. The place appeared to be weathered by time yet on the main platform a solid bed, dresser, wardrobe and mirror stood. A small bathing pool stood in the back, leading to a falls that seemed to have no end. When the sun would rise in this place, there was a large area for running himself with a nice perch got for a dragon. The area seemed surreal to Vilkas. He dropped his pack next to the bed and put a foot in the water. It was nice and hot, the stone around it brimming with warmth. He found a pair of boots sitting in the wardrobe and he took them along with a tunic, putting them on. "Much better...

 Leaving the room he heads to the mess hall. He hadn't eaten in quite a while and so was pretty famished. He arrived just as the anubis mentioned the small human girl's neclace. Ar´oa and Stephanie he recalled. He got food and walked over. "Would it be alright if I sat with you?"