Gaul, ever the heavy sleeper, awakens surrounded by unfamiliar, gaunt faces ogling the group. He gets up slowly, the soreness of battle having finally caught up to him from Ragnarok, and stretches carefully, all the while eyeing these malnourished people he can only assume are the rebels mentioned previously. With a startled look on his face, he begins frantically patting his pockets, searching for something. He snarls menacingly. 

“Which one of you has it? Where is my bloodstone?” Slowly, he begins to eye each of them suspiciously, waiting for someone to crack. Just as he’s about to lose it, a brief flash of memory takes over, and he sees the stone being placed carefully through a small crack in a door. He sighs deeply. “Sorry. Disregard that. I’ve remembered where it’s gone.” 

And with that, he sits on the ground and waits for his next assignment.