Welcome to hell, that's what I heard them sing.

As I make my way inside of the jail, he smiles at me ever so sweetly,
& sends to me on route to my cell, welcome to hell

Elijah St Clough

Eyes like honey coasted over the wooden walls of the empty shack, abandoned and fallen to despair. It was a room of melancholy, Befitting for such a guest as he. The figure would push forward to what appeared to be a broken table and chair. The legs splintered from the wood rot accumulated from years of damp loneliness. He would look across the room, to where a giant loom, he was taller normally but for the sake of fitting into the room, his companion has made himself smaller. Without needed to say a word, the honey eyes told the creature of his desire and so the bony face nodded. Raising a gloved hand, the creature release a small wave of magic, the once carved once of the table would begin to shake, it's vigour renewed as fresh branches sprouting from it, wrapping itself round and round until it raised off the ground. A sturdy furnishing once more, a moment later this would be mimicked with the chair. And so the honey-eyed man would take a seat in the empty room, the bone-faced companion lowering his hand once more.

"You wish to reside here, my lord." He remarked, less of a question of more of a confirmation. The man in the chair said nothing, instead, he would scan the room again, deciding his next course of action. "Holt, make a fire." He instructed, not the bone creature but to another man, one who had lingered closer to the door, closer to freedom one might assume. With a grunt, the man by the door would stride across the room, the hard thud of his heavy steps echoing as he did so. The burly man quickly set about kneeling by the fireplace and pulling a lighter out of his shirt pocket, he quickly began to put together a suitable build for the fire. About ten long minutes later, the flames would take to the wood and the room would come to light under its amber glow.

The youngest looking man eyed the flickering wisps from where he sat, saying nothing for the time being. The others in the meantime would set about trying to fix up the room, making it appear more comfortable. The Leshen would disappear into the attached room, reappearing a short while latter. "I have prepared a suitable bed for you, my lord." He announced, curious the older human strode across the room and peeked inside. Whistling audibly, "Not a bad set up, think you can rustle me up a bed, Doc?"

"Ahh but I already have," The Leshen replied, gracefully swinging his arm to the corner of the room, where a pile of hay had been carefully placed. Benji eyed the  pile with a scowl, before relaxing visibly with a sigh. He chuckled softly, offering a small shrug.  "Eh, I've slept in worse."

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