Five Nightmares

The Castle on the Edge of Waking

The realm of sleep and dreams is not normally one for clarity. Although it can be a source of inspiration, such flashes of insight are usually half-formed, gradually carved into focus by the lucid, awakened mind. But sometimes, lucidity pervades in sleep, and one can walk strange roads.

In this case, though, awareness settles on the group that they are in an elaborate dining hall, vaulted with gray stone that gleams as though polished. Well-made chairs carved with ravens and stars sit along a stout table of dark wood, a place-setting in front of each chair along with a name in Tradespeak -- your names among them. Along the walls stand translucent figures clad in black and silver livery, their lean forms suggestive of elves.

Standing at the head of the table, Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon spreads his hands in greeting. "Welcome, my friends. We await our honored guests, but I assure you that you are safe under my aegis. You stand in my dream-home, where I may seek knowledge obscured or lost." He gestures to the chairs. "Please, sit down. I'm afraid it will be a dream-meal, but at least it will be interesting."

Sudden lucid dreams? Elf like apparitions on the walls, and named places at a dinner table?

The small makari who was present certainly met everything with more than a small sliver of wariness. "So, this is all safe and accounted for? Nothing bad is going to happen if I or anyone else eats anything you're offering, right? What spell were you teaching in the colosseum a few months back?" They ask questioningly.

Sleep is a concept that MAC-B1G can parse, as it does routinely shut down secondary functions in order to perform diagnostics and/or repairs. It has yet, however, to experience false sensor echoes of electron-heavy ovine entities while doing so. Nor the presence of castles nor other participants, as well. This makes this a novel situation for the construct.

It continuously scans the immediate vicinity as it approaches the table. It does not require sustenance as the biological units, though it can consume various raw materials in the process of maintenance, repair, and does require consumable fuels for its reactive power generator. It 'sits' at the table by squating over its assigned personal furniture.

Carver narrows golden-eyes, looking about with a bewildered air. It is difficult to accept is when you are expecting otherwise. She scouts along the outer edge of the strange manor's halls, pausing to inspect an elven figure's dignity or admire their presumed beauty, before a name catches her attention. Her's. She scratches at the golden filigree on the card. Sniffs it. She does not lick the thing thankfully.

Instead, she slips into the chair, pulling knees to her chest and props herself in just as Telamon introduces himself with flair. She does not speak.

As everyone gathers something odd occurs. Something a little unsettling perhaps for the host (who admittedly is not yet that familiar with his own abode), in that the shape of the room around the outside shifts when no one is looking. It becomes a hexagon. Six sides. One for the entrance or exit if one prefers to think of it that way, and five new ones. Each with their own nameplate.

Interestingly, all the nameplates are empty.

Telamon blinks at Eztli, and the expression on his face is hilariously open. It's 'oh hells, I didn't even consider that'. So he takes a deep breath. "I was demonstrating the efficacy of haste. And invisibility. You were there, as was Carver, and Sir Seldan." He puts his hand over his face for a moment, looking embarrassed. "I promise, this is not fey bullshit."

When he looks up again, his brows furrow as he realizes the hall now has some new doors. "...Hm. In any case, we are here to deal with the question of Gnebeets Gearsmasher. I had reached through this... talent, to try and query his spirit, if he had moved to the Halls of Waiting." His expression becomes dour. "It appears he has not arrived there -- which suggests he is not dead."

Tel frowns. "Please, excuse me a moment." He rises from his chair, walking down the hall towards the door out. As he passes, the wineglasses begin to fill with a sparkling white wine, and each plate is adorned with an appetizer -- for Carver and Eztli, skewers of roasted chicken and vegetables, and for Mac a curious assortment of polyhedral shapes, some organic, some inorganic.

"Good enough for me." Eztli shrugs, pulling out one chair and sitting down. She debates some of the nearby cutlery, before shrugging and taking a skewer. "I take it this is what you mentioned, then. And, Carver? You're here too? Not just in my dreams for some other reason right? I know you were talking about that the other day." She adds after a pause.

"He's not dead? Shit, that's what I was worried about." They grumble.

MAC-B1G's faceplate lowers to scan the apparating materials upon the serving platter before it. Compositions are analyzed, dimensions measured, symmetries evaluated. A convex, non-stellated icosahedron would be be irregular if its density was not uniform, afterall.

The alteration of the surroundings draws it focus from small shapes to the large one, its faceplate making a slow revolution. "Confirmation of target functional status is highly relevant. Query: Additional points of egress created. What are their respective destinations?"

"Don't know much about all this mysticism an' dreamworks." Carver admits, her voice reedy. The food on her plate's aroma is enticing but distinct lack of appetite means that it is only considered with an absent look then forgotten. Maybe she's just intimidated by the concept of so many different utensils each with their own unique use.

Her gold eyes go back and linger on each of her companions. "Know trackin' and huntin' but rules seem different here. Things just become because whim. An' this ain't got much to do with me. This is Handsome Husband's... world?" The rising inflection speaks of lack of confidence.

When Telamon opens the door, an individual in gray robes is standing there. Their robes cover their hands and the long hood is pulled forward to obscure what seems to be an empty space. There is no indication of gender at all. The figure speaks to Telamon in a somewhat loud whisper, though this doesn't aid one in determining their gender. "Those you have requested are gathered beyond the doors. Most have not yet accepted death; or are just beginning to. You and your guests may find them... unsettling. Kindness is requested. Please be gentle with their souls."

Aeson is fashionably late, sleep taking longer for him to find these days. Finding himself in this dream-hall is met with an uneasy glance, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, and eyes roaming the small crows that now appear before him. "Ah, always late to the festivities." he says about himself, daring to walk closer as the translucent figures are taken in. Eztli, Telamon, Carver - one he does not know, and MAC. "I hate to always be behind in things, but... what did I miss?" this open ended question aimed at Telamon. The others are just acknowledged with a nod of his head. "I was warned of the oddity of some things that happen around you, Master Telamon. I suspect me being here is your doing?" Not questioning the dream too much.

Telamon's expression upon gazing at the robed figure is... unsurprised. He nods slowly, his face taking on a more serious mien. "I see. I will endeavor to make this as painless as possible, but I will not resist any review of this inquiry. I only seek to stop further deaths and agony." Notably, he does not close the door to the robed form, but instead turns to the others.

"Ah, Aeson, you've arrived. It seems we will have to visit each of these souls in turn, though I had hoped to draw them here for a pleasant evening meal." He shakes his head. "I probably should have known better. These poor souls died hard and unpleasantly. As the representative here has noted, they may seem unsettling; try not to react to it." Tel's eyes are compassionate. "Finding Gearsmasher means showing kindness here."

"I can try." Carver says. It certainly lacks her usual bravado. "I don't really.. talk to dead people often." The arrival of another is no cause for alarm, though Aeson is certainly examined for signs that they are dangerous. Like the automaton though, they are strange and more importantly a stranger. Two ships passing in the night of a platinum dreamer.

She uncurls her legs, leaning forward until her old boots clap to the ground. "Let's get to work."

"Oh, hey Aeson, I guess you're here, makes sense." Eztli waves, one skewer disappearing as she stops to listen. "But you were real curious the other day to figure things out Carver, and, did Telamon invite you?" They wonder. "Maybe you know more about this than you think."

Eztli sighs, reaching for the remaining skewers and finishing them off. "Best skip the wine for now, I don't know how dream wine works, but I want my wits about me. I, already saw what they were like before. I'll be as understanding as I can manage."

"I find the idea of treating the dead as I would in life... intriguing." Aeson says to Telamon, another glance following Carver's as he looks at her in return as he moves to find a seat at this banquet. "Often treating the one's health in life helps treat the soul, but this? This is a first for me." having picked up a bit of context in passing. "Surely treating a soul directly would be much the same as treating on in life." he reasons.

"So, if it is alright for now. I'll observe and only speak when I find it fitting." Aeson says to the others, a hand coming out of his pocket to pull a chair out, then wiggling some fingers at Etzli as they had greeted him, returning pleasantries. "So the food has taste in dreams? Interesting." his attention then going to the feast. "Often my dreams aren't of food or drink." but what they are of, he does not speak of it.

MAC-B1G notes the most recent arrival before turning its focus to Telamon. "Task parameters acknowledged. This unit will comply." The quantity of data is possesses concerning the dead and kindness is not clarified, however.

The first door is the first one that the group of you passes through. It leads to an interesting room which seems to be various colored swaths of fabric which are draped from the ceiling to the floor. Fine materials which shimmer beautifully. Plush pillows cover the floor in a riot of colors - though purple, pink, and red dominate.

In the midst of this space is a woman, her face white with shock and her whole body trembling with what is clearly distress. She whimpers as the door opens and shields herself from what is perceived to be danger. Her leg is missing from just above the joint, capped with some bit of artifice and metal but there's no artifice limb where it ought to be (where it was on her corpse).

Notably she is clad in a soft sweater of angora in pink, and a pair of comfortable-looking pink pants that are rolled up on the one side to show where her limb is missing. She lowers her arms when no one presents danger, but stares at where her missing leg is like she can't quite comprehend that it's not there.

The gray-robed individual who had been at the door, follows into the room behind Telamon, remaining close at hand.

Well, it could be worse. Though Telamon might question the color choices, to each their own. The sorcerer's starry eyes land on the woman, but there's no danger there, no anguish. Instead, he carefully picks his way through the pillows, before... he just sits down. About ten feet away, giving the woman space. Seated cross legged, Telamon regards her with bright, gentle eyes.

"Miss Anami Nuur," he says quietly, but his voice is kind. "I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances. I am called Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon." On the off chance she's heard of him, that might smooth this a little bit.

GAME: Aeson rolls Heal: (5)+11: 16

Eztli leaves her seat at the table, following the others to the door, and entering after a moment of hesitation. The small makari joins inside, but she decides to let others who may be less distressing to look at take the lead. "If there's anything I can do to put you more at ease, just let me know, miss." The makari offers gently.

"Yes," Carver hisses to Eztli as they enter the first room, pitching her voice low. "That is why I agreed to another of the mad-brained elf thing's ideas. But, it's rude to say't loud." Gold-Eyes move all about as the color scheme changes, taking on other cues and hues.

Softer, more passionate, less grandeur but more comfortable. Cold and grand history replaced by pillows and fine silks. Still too rich for her taste judging by the all-too-visible-grimace.

"Guess he knew her. Glad her name isn't Eileen. Hi, I'm Carver. We're all here to help. Nothin' to be afraid of."

Aeson pauses in his attempt to sit, turning as the others head towards the first door. "Oh, I thought they were coming to us." he says sheepishly, grinning as he strokes at his trimmed beard. His pace is a bit lackadaisical as he follows the others. Upon seeing the inside his smile fades quickly, an internal sigh going off as his lips purse upon seeing the woman with a missing limb.

"Where we could not advocate for you in life, we now seek to do so here." Aeson says in a somber manner. Quiet, but serious. "Even now the shock is clear. A piece of soul scarred from the ordeal. One I'd like to see restored eventually so that the spirit can fully rest." following Telamon's lead and entering to take a seat away from the distressed soul. A pillow of green chosen to park himself with a ungraceful plop.

The woman blinks at Telamon, but his words seem to draw her out of her shock a little. Some are gossips in life, and it's a joy to them. It seems that this is so for this woman. "You're the Archmage! The one from the Crimson Pen novels!" She blushes suddenly, realizing what she's said and then covering her cheeks with her hands to conceal her embarrassment. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..."

Her eyes flicker to Aeson and she seems uneasy with him for some reason and her words give that reason. "Shock? Soul? What... what soul?" Anami's eyes fill with tears and it's clear she knows exactly who is being talked about though she doesn't want to admit it. "C-couldn't aaa-advocate?" She seems to be getting quite upset but she manages to avoid dissolving into tears. "'m fine. I-I'm fine. The archmage is here to help me get my leg back. Right?"

Sorrowfully she looks at all of you. "That's why I'm here right? I'm here to get my leg back." Some lies are hard not to believe.

MAC-B1G follows the others through the doorway, though its strides become slowed and uncertain by the plush floor covering. It halts behind the others within view of the room's original occupant. "Hypothesis: Distress caused by partial removal of locomotive appendage. Counter: Construction of replacement appendage."

The words of the war golem bring the woman's attention to him and she pales considerably. "What? NO! NO!" She screams suddenly and throws the nearest pillow at him. "HELP! HELP! PLEASE ARCHMAGE!" She tries to scoot herself behind Telamon.

Carver turns and makes sure Mac feels the full weight of her hands in the air disappointment.

Telamon's reaction is just wry amusement. "Yes. Although you'd think I'd get royalties from those books, but I've yet to see a copper." He rolls his eyes. "As the oruch say, 'djovo'." He hmms at the girl. "I'm here to stop the person who hurt you. But we need your help, Anami. We need to know who he was, where he came from--"

And then Anami panics, screaming and trying to cower, and Tel knows only one thing to do. He wraps his arms around the young woman. "Anami! It's all right, it's all right! He can't hurt you any more! That's not him!" He lets her cling to him, hide against him as she wants. All he wants is to calm her down.

GAME: Telamon rolls talky: aliased to diplomacy+5: (13)+34+5: 52

Aeson sighs, shaking his head. "I apologize, Anami. In my trade, we tend to not lie about the truth of things." he explains as Telamon goes about trying to comfort the soul. "Lying to patients is not something I can do." Equating helping this soul to how he works in life.

"We are here now, and for what was done... we will see these actions befall no one else if it is within our power." Resorting to being blunt, but not without his tone shifting to warmer climates. "Please forgive a surgeon if you would. I just don't know how else to go about things. Untruths serve no purpose when one's spiritual health is on the line." Aeson's words calm motioning to Telamon. "It is as he says. We want to stop these things, and we need your help to do it. We're your advocates now. Speakers for the dead. Helpers of the lost." utilizing his school of practice, despite it pointing out the harsh truths of her demise.

"Telamon roped you into this? Well, hope it helps you figure out what you're looking for Carver." They respond with a nod before turning her attention back to the person in the room."I mean, hey, my name is Eztli, I'm here to help too, you might have heard of me." Eztli offers with a weak smile. "We're here to make sure you're doing okay."

Then things devolve, and the makari sighs loudly. "Hey, hey, focus on Telamon there, think about some good things. The people who hurt you aren't here." They offer placatingly.

MAC-B1G remains where it is. "This unit did not amputate your appendage," it concurs and explains to the woman. "Probability of success re-attachment unknown." It holds limited data regarding biology, but others appear far more knowledgeable. Its faceplate pans to Aeson, though it does not inquire. The procedure may not have been mentioned previously due to unfeasible status.

The woman calms thanks to Telamon holding onto her, but the advocate of Vardama doesn't seem best pleased with her state of unease. "Perhaps another might be better to question?" It's whisper is quiet, but everyone hears it in the same manner.

Anami however gathers herself a bit more than the advocate seems to think she might and manages to shake her head. "I wa-want to help. I want my leg back." She sniffles. "Please... If I help... I can have it back right?" She's still using Telamon as a shield from MAC however, not looking at the war golem at all. She also seems to be ignoring Aeson a bit. Maybe thanks to Eztli's words about focusing on Telamon? Either way she doesn't want to think about being dead and that's clear.

The Vardama representative doesn't say anything, allowing the group to decide what to say and do from here.

GAME: Aeson rolls Knowledge/Religion: (8)+6: 14
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/religion: (9)+13: 22
GAME: Aeson rolls Knowledge/Religion: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Carver rolls knowledge/religion: (12)+7: 19

"I know what it feels like to lose something, an' want it back." Carver says. "Feels like it's everything in the moment and later, it's worth anythin' at all. Gone is gone though, an' won't lie to you abou' that. Creepies in long robes or no, you'd know if we were lying. We can be better than yesterday's pain though. I bet if you really wanted to, you could stand. When you're ready."

GAME: Carver rolls diplomacy: (13)+0: 13

Telamon looks thoughtful, focused. "Tell us what happened, Anami. How did you lose your leg?" He makes sure to keep himself in Anami's line of sight. Silently, though, he blesses Carver's blunt insight. The leg isn't really necessary for the soul. It's just a reflection of her trauma. The trick, of course, is getting Anami past that.

"I'm sorry that Mac scared you. He means well. But I'm guessing you had a run in with another war golem."

"... Yeah, I know what pain like that is like, too." Eztli agrees quietly, taking a step off to one side. "It might be hard to talk about, but I find talking with someone you trust is the first step with these sorts of things. And Telamon, Carver, all of us here? We're all trustworthy. Even if you just need folks to listen for a bit."

Aeson lets the others talk with the spirit, his eyes now taking note of their techniques and manners. He just sits upon his pillow, quiet and waiting. He does sit up, his legs crossing as he folds his hands above his lap. This is for the more experienced.

MAC-B1G's presence appears to exacerbate the situation, though it is uncertain of the root cause. Until unit designate Telamon forms and announces a valid hypothesis. Further data is required to prove or disprove the hypothesis, but the construct does not make any direct query of the victim. Instead, it vocalizes towards its fellow taskforce members, "Descriptive details of the attacker are highly relevant to the investigation."

The woman looks at Carver for a long, long moment. "M-maybe." She turns her attention with a sigh to Telamon and she shudders. "War golems are good. Strange sometimes." She risks a glance at Mac and shudders again, her eyes filling with tears. "That thing... it was evil. I only saw it for a little. I woke up and I saw its face. Metal and glowing eyes like the heart of the Abyss. I'll never forget. Then t-the pain."

Tears fall down her face. "I'm sorry. It hurt." She looks at the Vardama guardian and she seems to see it for the first time. "After I was laying in water and I was so weak. I thought I... I was going to die alone but you came for me. You sang and I felt all better."

As it turns out that's all she really knows and remembers. That and a strange smell when she left the tailoring shop she was apprenticing at. She can't off you any more information, so it's time to leave the woman alone. Her last words to you are an apology to Telamon that she had remembered him so, and how grateful she is that she got to help. She hopes she helped.

Carver says, “Would it help if we sang for you till you fell asleep?”

Once she is calmed and reassured, Telamon leads the group from her little corner of the dream. His expression remains placid until the door shuts behind them, at which point he shudders for a moment. He turns his back to the others for a moment or two, reaching into his tunic for a handkerchief and drying his eyes before he turns back to them. "Right then. Either Gearsmasher has indulged in some self-modification, or has a war golem companion. Neither fills me with happiness, but it's still information." He gestures. "Let's check the second door."

"Maybe we shoul' put like, the thing in a dress." Carver offers as they depart the woman's room. "'cause like you said, the mage ain't like me or you even Eztli. It's something else entirely." She isn't wet around the eyes but the joke feels and certainly is forced and the heavy bags under her eyes not even dream magic could whisk away.

"Sure. Second door."

Aeson wrinkles a nose at what is offered, thinking about what smells one might find during an abduction. "Only the Oldest One may know what she is talking about. It is all clues, but..." letting his thoughts trail off. He will not risk causing the spirit distress. Standing, he heads towards the door with a sigh. It's to Telamon he speaks. "One of your friends and I had a chat about Gearsmasher. They worried he may find himself in cahoots with one called Lancet. I am not sure about this, but now that we know there is a chance of others being involved. Relaying another's concern seems pertinent." Onward now. To the second door.

"Hey, don't apologizes. Thank you for everything you were able to tell us." Eztli reassures. "Take care please, things will get better, I promise."

With that the makari leaves the room, looking a bit pensive for some time. "I wonder what my soul would look like in such a situation?" They wonder quietly, mostly to herself, before she shakes her head. "Just so you know what to expect Carver, the others might not be in such good shape. One of them had their eyes replaced, one of their arms. One of them had chunks of flesh replaced. Another had their leg hacked off by... something. All were pretty bad."

"This unit concurs," MAC advises on Telamon's inference as it moves for the original room to then approach the other point of egress. "Probability of discovery increased due to rarity of constructed units within regional population." Its optics traverse to Aeson. "Unit designate Lancet confirmed construct with known activities involving biological-non-biological fusion. Association possible."

The second door leads to a homey cabin. Big plush chairs and a man sitting in one looking a bit shocked but less so than the woman had when you first arrived. He's got a dog that's too big for his lap curled in it just the same, his fingers petting the animal gently. There's a small pack laying at his hearth. One of his eyes is just gapingly empty, but he seems alright. At least until he spots Mac entering the room.

Then, it's only the dog in his lap that keeps him from running away or otherwise. The dog keeps him grounded and he trembles but steadies himself with his animal companion there to help him through. "Ye ghads! Ye scared the shite outta me boy! Bringin' that golem in here! By gods." He pets the dog some more. "Guessin... I'm dead yea?”

Telamon's face has returned to its calm, welcoming expression by the time they open the second door. Whatever he feels, he's carefully keeping it under wraps again, and when they're greeted by the second man, he heaves a sigh. "I'm afraid so, sir. The Harpist is allowing me to speak to you, because we're investigating your demise."

He politely introduces the others, and himself. "I apologize if Mac here startled you. We've already spoken with another victim and they had a similar reaction to him."

"I proposed a dress but no one listened," Carver says. "I'll be honest, it righ' scares me too." She nods at Eztli as her theory is proven true, cause won't you look't that, fella is missing an eye. She tries not to stare at it too much which means instead she pays more attention to the dog. "Who's your handsome friend?"

At the startled entrance, and calls out about MAC, Aeson grins at the demeanor of the victim behind the second door. He'll let the others handle the talking for now, their forte with the dead seeming to be on par with his of the living. No, for now he just follows the group, listening.

"Nice to meet you, Telamon already mentioned me. And, I'm sorry, but you and him are both right." The small makari greets. "We're trying to understand what happened, to make sure nothing like this happens to anyone else. If there's anything you could share, and anything we could do for you, just let us know, okay?"

MAC-B1G remains near the rear of the task force formation due to mobility and spatial limitations. So it has only just entered the room when the latest witness reacts to its presence. It ceases motion towards the man. "Negative reaction confirmed in multiple witnesses. Root cause: observation of this unit. Evaluating corrective measures." It fails silent for several seconds before the construct reaches up to its chassis to rotate an inset crystal. "Engaging anti-observation measures." A flicker of distortion then ripples across its chassis, leaving ... nothing in its wake and causing the construct to vanish. Root cause removed.

GAME: MAC-B1G casts Greater Invisibility. Caster Level: 12 DC: 16

The man nods to Telamon. "Aye. Ah can see why. It donna look much like it, but..." The man shudders. "This here is Bailey, over yon is Bear, Bella, and Daisy." He motions to the other dogs by the hearth, but then returns to petting the one in his lap.

"A just smelled summin' when A was walking Bailey. Dunno what happened. One second A was out and the next... Felt like hellfire was in me eye." He blinks as Mac disappears and then smiles. "Aye. That's a right better. No offense meant, but it sets me heart to ease. A is pretty sure A died like that though. Staring up at that that did it. Black-hearted beastie with black and red eyes. Metal face o' bronze less A mess my guess. Which by... A don't. Aye was a blacksmith ere A died."

Telamon's face softens a bit. "I imagine they were happy to find you here." He listens to the blacksmith's tale. "You smelled something... could you describe it? That was something the other victim mentioned as well." He glances at the others. "Our culprit may be stalking his victims, and tranquilizing them with some sort of alchemical concoction. Easier than simply trying to overwhelm them."

"They all seem like nice dogs. Thank you for telling us what you know." The makari smiles. "It seems like the smell is a recurring issue. And something we'll need to take into account. A way to prevent odors may be a good idea."

"I'm curious about the smell too though, if we can figure out what it is, we might be able to track down where it was purchased, or what was needed to make it."

"A sedative before taking them to...." Aeson says in thought, shaking his head as he doesn't finish the statement. "Interesting. If we knew what it was, or how it was made. It might tell us more." his agreeance falling with Telamon. "Why these people? How is it, or they selecting their targets?" his mentioning more for himself. "What time were these abductions done? Daylight? Night? How did they transport them?" too many thoughts at once as he sighs, and goes quiet for the others.

Carver greets the mutts by the fire as the others continue the investigation, because.. well, she loves ole' sleepy hound dogs. Though their presence here has some further saddening implications about their own well-being. At least they all get to nap in their home one last time, in front of a fire.

"Corrective actions validated," MAC intones. It may not be readily visible, but it remains audible. It is possible that it remains in the same location, as well. When the odor is hypothesized to be a possible attack vector identifier, it preemptively retrieves properties of known chemical weapons for possible correlation.

"Well... it were a soft smell. Floral. More like roses Ah think?" The man shrugs. Obviously not certain. "A dunno why me boy, but A know that A was walking me dog around even-time. Sun were a-setting, that's for sure. The rest? Any guess is as good as mine might be."

Some examples of these scents are then provided to the man, and he identifies the smell of roses as being the closest he can guess to the scent. Though he adds that there was a sort of chemical smell that the 'fresh' scent of roses didn't have. One that he himself can't identify at all. He apologizes for being less than knowing of alchemical things. He'd have recognized it if it were metal.

-TBC