One decorative wall scroll depicted a horde of bulls charging beneath a fruit tree. Two rats swarmed around an urn with purple light bubbling out from under the lid. An owl looked blearily down from a square lantern that hung from the ceiling. It was spacious enough, but cluttered, filled with strange devices and loose animals. The servant's chambers looked like they belonged to a strange alchemist that occasionally worked for a menagerie. It's a remarkable feat to have escaped Oerthon. Lezaar chuckled, pulling his black hood back to see better in the fading evening sunlight that filtered through the windows of his private chamber. Lindon bowed to express the regret he didn't feel he was lucky to have escaped with his life and the pack on his back. It must be burning him, but he gave no sign of discomfort. Lezaar twirled the black-stemmed flower between his twisted fingers.
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