In only a few moments, Tungsten's magic proved its worth, and before Mae's eyes Lady Faetalis regained her senses. She took stock of the situation even before her faculties fully kicked in, after which she removed herself from her underling's grip with as much dignity and haste as she could simultaneously manage. If Mae had a face, she would have cracked an appreciative smile. Even in such dire circumstances as these, the conscientious Supreme One was kind enough to offer her underlings a less-than-perfect composure, to let them know they weren't alone in their uneasiness. That supposition faded when Faetalis began to speak, replaced by attentiveness. Cormac's arrival created a momentary interruption, but Faetalis recovered and quickly worked to address the general concerns. In doing so she dropped a nugget of information that took Mae alone by surprise.

"We did?" Mae murmured to herself in the allotted moment of silence. She did not question her superior's declaration, of course, and in fact accepted it out of hand given the limited range of her Blindsight. Rather, it was a lot to take in. If the guild had been displaced, that meant no supply lines. No certain ways of getting the resources to make repairs or the goods that a repaired kitchen would need to function. Would they have to explore this new world? Mae couldn't conceive of a worse job for her inferior senses. Blindsight allowed her to perceive every inch of her kitchen in glorious detail, but anything beyond her effective range was as good as nonexistent.

Shaking herself, Mae put aside her concerns. This wasn't the time to go nuts over logistics. One after another, the overseers gave their reports, and with each one the headless chef grew more uneasy. When her turn came around, Mae gave a guttural cough and launched into her own report with as much vigor as she could muster. "Well, uh...AHEUGHM. The Gorging Trough's messed up six ways from Sunday, ma'am! All staff's accounted for, but we were in full swing when things kicked off, and we everythin' caught on fire. Don't know what'll be left when it burns itself out, but it sure won't be much. So uh, basically, we got squat for food 'n equipment. 'Course, I got my Master Chef skill, so I can whip up anythin' on my own if I get the ingredients 'n a pot or somethin'. And fire, though I guess I got plenty o' that, huhuh..." Angry at herself for making light of her failure, she rocked back and forth on her feet. Well, she's made her excuses, so there was left to do but take responsibility. "Er...my apologies, ma'am. It'll be a while before the ol' Trough's up and runnin' again, I'm afraid. Real sorry situation." Although the others had offered, she didn't dare hurt her pride further by asking for their help.