"Someone needs a hug," Sam notes after Xazgan's outburst. It wasn't going to be him though...
"Having the one who turned them return... So we can't just kill the one making them undead?" Sam asks of Morris. "We need to somehow get them to return souls? That seems a stretch..."
With that Sam puts his arms crossed atop the bar and rests his head upon them. Not quite napping but near enough. It had been a struggle and being here has brought some much needed recuperation to him he's still drained from it all. So eyes closed, mind wandering, Sam falls into that murky state where one isn't sure if they're thinking or dreaming or somehow directing their dreams. And he dreams of Molly, his wife. He's not down long but he mutters incomprehensibly while he is... Softly, at least at first. But then just as perhaps someone is thinking of waking him and suggesting he move to a couch or something, he jerks awake with a loud "Don't go!" called out to... Well, only his own thoughts really know.
Sam then looks around a bit with a bit of an embarrassed look upon his face. "Sorry," he says, standing up and stretching. "Cat nap, I guess. They can do wonders though..." And it did. Sam is definitely looking better than when he set his head down. "Good beer!" Sam says to Morris, trying to change the focus off of himself, and takes another long drink.
Muir skootches a little closer to Xazgan "Now, now little friend....we are hear to rest and talk and enjoy each other's company....Well most of us anyway" Muir side eyes Nef "Morris, you see as a Keeper of the Woods, we don't necessarily pray to a good but share in their purpose....Some refer to her as Mother Nature, other's use a name given Chauntea but then there are those who refer to him, Oak Father, Silvanus....I" Muir pauses a moment "know back home the Clerics of Hermes worship Hermes rather fanatically and are probably causing a headache back home. I wondered if you knew of these gods or not....I guess more importantly though, this Nivara instance....How could she have made a deal with Nectyran? Was it the shrine she found back on our plane of existence?"
Vin points at Sam, whose question mirrors his own, and waits to see what Morris will come back with.
Neferox snorts derisively at Muir and wanders over to the grand fireplace, flopping down seemingly uncomfortably close, but she seems to enjoy the closeness of the flames.
"a god even locked away can have an effect on the world, through worship, through relics, through old magics, one needs only seek them out, sometimes that is enough to bring a spark of. A god back to life after death... I have an extensive knowledge of many many gods, through the lives of those who worship them, the stories that it is my duty to collect. Hermes, his brother Ares they were a tight duo in their time, one fed the other until Hermes got more worship. Those who revelled in war slowly died off, arbitration and politics became the way to get things done. Ares disappeared. Died I expect, fights weren't enough to sustain him and no large-scale wars were taking place... Anyway I'm rambling.
You asked about Nivara, I know from the memories of those she has killed, those she specifically hasn't turned, that she is undead. She became undead long before she entered Thaeir but I do not think she is a vampire any longer. She must have dabbled in powerful necromantic magics and yes, likely found a way to make a pact with nectyran... Here is where my knowledge fails, anyone who pledges themselves to nectyran becomes undead and then once that happens I cannot collect their memor-"
Morris stops, his attention caught by Sam. "Are you ok? You've gone awfully pale eh?"
As the groups attention is brought to the half dozing half orc, it seems Morris is onto something, Sam's green skin is sallow and pale, his breath cold.
"Huh??" Sam asks, eyes narrowing and head tilting slightly to one side as he eyes Morris and wonders what he's on about. "I'm fine. Fine. Feeling great, in fact. A good ale, a quick nap..." Sam shrugs.
Sam can't really see himself so isn't sure what Morris is on about. He feels great. Great! Or... does he? He does but he also feels off. Cold. And his ears... It's not that they are ringing but more they don't have the steady sound they always do. Huh. But he feels great. As Muir moves over to fuss over him Sam takes his ale and moves away, moving closer to the fire and asking Morris "How does it work anyway? Death. Undeath. If you collect the memories does that mean you get a signal or something when people die? Like how do you know to go collect them? And do you get the same kind of signal if they are undead instead? 'Cause don't things normally die before undeath? So does the call for the memories to get collected just suddenly stop?"
Sam's not really sure what he is asking about but he'd rather Morris be talking about something other than him. Cause he feels fine. Great, actually... He had been dreaming of Molly. Molly and her death. He thinks of her often but usually doesn't allow himself to think of her death. It hurts too much. The loss, of course but also empty hole of vengeance unachieved... unaimed. The fire of revenge burns so hot inside of him but what should be a raging fire is but the smallest of embers as he has no idea who to target, who is to blame.
Molly herself couldn't tell me. Or wouldn't, Sam thinks but then shakes his head a bit to try to clear it. It was a dream, it wasn't her you idiot. But this was a dream unlike any other. It seemed so real. She seemed so real. Not real in the sense she was there with him and alive... But that she was there with him and... and something else. Something that surrounded him and comforted him and demanded of him. A spirit... an essence of some sort. Giving yet also asking in return. That last bit was a bit unlike her, she never asked for much at all... But Sam supposed what she was asking for was only what he himself wanted anyway. He just needed to find some fuel for that white hot ember of hate. A direction. A target. He needed to find the murderer....
Sam really does feel great though. Cold but great. Maybe that fire of vengeance inside him does need to be stoked? Holding his hands out to the actual fire in Ratosk's tavern and then rubbing them together to try to help the heat move into them Sam does notice that they are pale... And quickly pulls them back to himself, folding his arms in such a way as to hide his hands. What is going on?he wonders. But Sam being Sam he certainly isn't going to draw attention to it if he's sick. Best to hide it and act like everything is fine... fine... Great, even.
As Sam moves behind the bar to get to the fire, Morris doesn't stop him, "Sam I hate to do this but I'm not answering any more questions if there's something wrong that needs attending to..." Morris suggests whilst clearing away the empty tankards.
As Sam looks back the whole group get a good look at him, now in the fire light. His skin has turned a sickly blue, similar to the hue that Lestheris, Halorin, and the others in the Grave Order bore upon their skin.
Serafina stands and shouts "Sam you look like death, put your ego aside and let someone take a look!" She then glances at Morris and realises what she has just said, she goes bright red and stammers out, "well not like death, I mean, you look real bad, not that death looks bad themselves, Morris I didn't mean-" morris puts a hand out to her lowering it and gesturing that he has taken no offence, but he doesn't take his eyes off of Sam.
Sam looks at Morris curiously asking "Something wrong?" Then his eyes go wide and dart to Serafina as she yells at him. "I... I don't... I mean sure, take a look?"
Sam looks at his own hands again and then back up at the others. "How bad do I look? I mean I was never gunna win any beauty contests but..." he shrugs instead of finishing whatever his thought was. "I don't know what this is. Whatever this is. But I think... I think it was Molly... My wife."
"Dead wife," he clarifies after a moment.
"She... She came to me while I slept just now. Said she could help." As Sam says help a light glows around him. A bright amber and pink light shines from him that he doesn't really seem to take note of.
"Said she would be walking the journey with me now..." Invisible fingers brush dirt off Sam, straightens his cloak, and basically tidies him up.
"Helping me. Helping us." The faint glow of a similar amber and pink light briefly descends upon Elthana and Gewyn and they each feel a momentary warmth and gain back a little strength. (Elthana regains 5 hp, Gewyn 2)
"If Molly's help comes with a cost of me not looking my best... Well it's not really a hard price to pay to have her presence here."
Amber and pink light shining around Sam: Light Invisible fingers grooming / sprucing up Sam: Unseen Servant Heals on Elthana & Gewyn: Healing Light feature Molly presence: Pact of the Celestial
Vin is for the most part concerned that Sam might have inhaled some of those horrible spores like Neferox had, that is until the strange things started happening around him. Strange that is, for Sam, who had never shown much inclination towards magic beyond growing big and stuff.
He starts to open his mouth to suggest it might be something that the creatures from the shadow fell portal did to him, but shuts it without a word spoken. He instead looks to Neferox, who has raises her head from the floor to see what all the fuss is about, before going back to dosing in front of the fire. She doesn't much care what is happening to Sam, as long as it isn't a danger to Vin.
"Your dead wife is doing all that, Sam? The lights and straightening your cloak?", Vin asks. "I mean, I believe you. We have seen some strange things together, for example right now we are in an extra-dimensional tavern drinking ale with an aspect of the god of death. I mean, you are ok, right?"
Muir huffs as Sam moves away before he could check him out "Sam you look terrible. Are you cold? Is this why you moved to the fire? What if one of those undead inflicted you with some poison or some other infliction...Let us check and see. It is possible that your wife appearing to you in a dream is unrelated to the way you look."
"Doing it... giving me the power to do it... I don't know the precise details," Sam admits to Vin. "She's restless, I guess you'd say. Something about not being able to move on until the truth is known..."
"Not cold. Not precisely, Muir. More not warm, if that makes sense?" Sam says. "I'm fine though. Feeling better than fine. Kind of miss the buzz I had going but that has disappeared with all my various aches and pains. Back feels new again. Knee feels more solid than it was since the Cider Mill Incident of my youth. Check all you want, if you want, but it would be a mighty big coincidence for Molly's spirit to speak to me just as some poison kicked in, wouldn't it?"
"entirely possible..." Morris answers to Muir's question. "Souls can be used to power things, to power people. Loved ones passed can sacrifice some of themselves to give gifts to those left behind, when love is strong enough or there is business unfinished..
Sam, I'm truly happy that Molly has been able to pierce the veil and return to you, to help you and your friends, but the only way her assistance would turn you undead is if her soul had been sworn to nectyran, and that I can guarantee it has not, if it was I wouldn't have her memories...
We need to find out what is doing this to you or I'm afraid I would have to ask you to leave... An undead near my library could have dire consequences, no matter your intentions. Please do not misunderstand, this isn't an accusation but an offer of help." All amusement has been lost from Morris's voice now, replaced with polite but utter seriousness and sincerity.
"Undead? Who said anything about undead??" Sam asks a bit loudly even as he realizes he's only breathed in when he needs to say something... "You have her... Say again??"
"You have Molly's memories??" Sam asks calmly. Too calmly? "You know who killed her?"
"And you think this is unusual for me?" Sam asks, unsure exactly what his normal resting heart rate or body temperature is. Some day someone should invent record keeping and filing cabinets and such...
Vin moves across towards Sam, a little more concerned now at all the talk of him being turned into an undead.
"Well, didn't you say you can't take the memories of one sworn to Nectyran, as all undead are, Morris? What if Sam gives you a tiny memory as a test", he says as he approaches the half-orc.
"And as for having someone else aid you and grant you gifts of power, I know a little about that, but not as much as someone else here", he says nodding towards Neferox. As he reaches Sam, he does as Muir asked and tries very hard to find pulse, assuming Sam lets him.
Sam now assaulted by several people trying and failing to find his pulse, looks over to Morris at his question. Morris furrows his brows and cocks his head to a side, "Sam your wife is dead and I collect the memories of the dead, If Molly knew who killed her then so do I, but do you really want to find that out from me? Would you ask me to drag her memories forward for you?
I also know Maathai's initial reaction to finding a loxodon baby in the woods and her true reasons for taking him in. I know why Gewyn's parents abandoned him, I know what truly happened to Vin in that alley when he first met Neferox. I know what the look was on Mori's face as her baby died in her arms and I can only see it from the perspective of the baby.
I could show you all of these things, but I could never take it back once done, and some of you would likely never forgive me if I did...
Sam, when I was together with my siblings we waged war against the undead, I know undead and there's no mistaking it. Right now, you are one."
"Ok let us think about this rationally...Sam was attacked by multiple undead fiends, he handled the undead throwing them back through the portal, and rooted around their corpses finding trinkets and such, like the book in my bag. Sam do you have any wounds we do see? Touch anything that could have been cursed? I have handled the book and so has Vin, so it seems safe to say it is not the book."
"I smell like... Have you smelled your dog?? 'Cause trust me, we all do!" Sam protests but otherwise allows himself to be poked at.
"Why would I not want to find out from you?" Sam asks of Morris. "I won't like the answer to who killed Molly no matter how I find out but it's hard to bring the murdering scum to answer for their crimes if you don't know who the murderer is... And you think we're likely to forgive you for holding back information we feel vital to our lives now that you say you have it at your fingertips?" Maybe there was something here Sam wasn't understanding but he could see no reason he wouldn't want to know.
"Wounds? No. No wounds. Molly healed me up," Sam answers Muir. "I touched a lot of things cleaning up and disposing of the bodies. A lot of it wet and squishy and smelling like Neferox. I tried not to look too closely or think to much about what everything was, you know?"
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"Someone needs a hug," Sam notes after Xazgan's outburst. It wasn't going to be him though...
"Having the one who turned them return... So we can't just kill the one making them undead?" Sam asks of Morris. "We need to somehow get them to return souls? That seems a stretch..."
With that Sam puts his arms crossed atop the bar and rests his head upon them. Not quite napping but near enough. It had been a struggle and being here has brought some much needed recuperation to him he's still drained from it all. So eyes closed, mind wandering, Sam falls into that murky state where one isn't sure if they're thinking or dreaming or somehow directing their dreams. And he dreams of Molly, his wife. He's not down long but he mutters incomprehensibly while he is... Softly, at least at first. But then just as perhaps someone is thinking of waking him and suggesting he move to a couch or something, he jerks awake with a loud "Don't go!" called out to... Well, only his own thoughts really know.
Sam then looks around a bit with a bit of an embarrassed look upon his face. "Sorry," he says, standing up and stretching. "Cat nap, I guess. They can do wonders though..." And it did. Sam is definitely looking better than when he set his head down. "Good beer!" Sam says to Morris, trying to change the focus off of himself, and takes another long drink.
Muir skootches a little closer to Xazgan "Now, now little friend....we are hear to rest and talk and enjoy each other's company....Well most of us anyway" Muir side eyes Nef "Morris, you see as a Keeper of the Woods, we don't necessarily pray to a good but share in their purpose....Some refer to her as Mother Nature, other's use a name given Chauntea but then there are those who refer to him, Oak Father, Silvanus....I" Muir pauses a moment "know back home the Clerics of Hermes worship Hermes rather fanatically and are probably causing a headache back home. I wondered if you knew of these gods or not....I guess more importantly though, this Nivara instance....How could she have made a deal with Nectyran? Was it the shrine she found back on our plane of existence?"
Vin points at Sam, whose question mirrors his own, and waits to see what Morris will come back with.
Neferox snorts derisively at Muir and wanders over to the grand fireplace, flopping down seemingly uncomfortably close, but she seems to enjoy the closeness of the flames.
"a god even locked away can have an effect on the world, through worship, through relics, through old magics, one needs only seek them out, sometimes that is enough to bring a spark of. A god back to life after death... I have an extensive knowledge of many many gods, through the lives of those who worship them, the stories that it is my duty to collect. Hermes, his brother Ares they were a tight duo in their time, one fed the other until Hermes got more worship. Those who revelled in war slowly died off, arbitration and politics became the way to get things done. Ares disappeared. Died I expect, fights weren't enough to sustain him and no large-scale wars were taking place... Anyway I'm rambling.
You asked about Nivara, I know from the memories of those she has killed, those she specifically hasn't turned, that she is undead. She became undead long before she entered Thaeir but I do not think she is a vampire any longer. She must have dabbled in powerful necromantic magics and yes, likely found a way to make a pact with nectyran... Here is where my knowledge fails, anyone who pledges themselves to nectyran becomes undead and then once that happens I cannot collect their memor-"
Morris stops, his attention caught by Sam. "Are you ok? You've gone awfully pale eh?"
As the groups attention is brought to the half dozing half orc, it seems Morris is onto something, Sam's green skin is sallow and pale, his breath cold.
Muir looks at Sam from the couch and notices what Morris has pointed out. He gets up and fusses over Sam checking his vitals…(Med 6)
"Huh??" Sam asks, eyes narrowing and head tilting slightly to one side as he eyes Morris and wonders what he's on about. "I'm fine. Fine. Feeling great, in fact. A good ale, a quick nap..." Sam shrugs.
Sam can't really see himself so isn't sure what Morris is on about. He feels great. Great! Or... does he? He does but he also feels off. Cold. And his ears... It's not that they are ringing but more they don't have the steady sound they always do. Huh. But he feels great. As Muir moves over to fuss over him Sam takes his ale and moves away, moving closer to the fire and asking Morris "How does it work anyway? Death. Undeath. If you collect the memories does that mean you get a signal or something when people die? Like how do you know to go collect them? And do you get the same kind of signal if they are undead instead? 'Cause don't things normally die before undeath? So does the call for the memories to get collected just suddenly stop?"
Sam's not really sure what he is asking about but he'd rather Morris be talking about something other than him. Cause he feels fine. Great, actually... He had been dreaming of Molly. Molly and her death. He thinks of her often but usually doesn't allow himself to think of her death. It hurts too much. The loss, of course but also empty hole of vengeance unachieved... unaimed. The fire of revenge burns so hot inside of him but what should be a raging fire is but the smallest of embers as he has no idea who to target, who is to blame.
Molly herself couldn't tell me. Or wouldn't, Sam thinks but then shakes his head a bit to try to clear it. It was a dream, it wasn't her you idiot. But this was a dream unlike any other. It seemed so real. She seemed so real. Not real in the sense she was there with him and alive... But that she was there with him and... and something else. Something that surrounded him and comforted him and demanded of him. A spirit... an essence of some sort. Giving yet also asking in return. That last bit was a bit unlike her, she never asked for much at all... But Sam supposed what she was asking for was only what he himself wanted anyway. He just needed to find some fuel for that white hot ember of hate. A direction. A target. He needed to find the murderer....
Sam really does feel great though. Cold but great. Maybe that fire of vengeance inside him does need to be stoked? Holding his hands out to the actual fire in Ratosk's tavern and then rubbing them together to try to help the heat move into them Sam does notice that they are pale... And quickly pulls them back to himself, folding his arms in such a way as to hide his hands. What is going on? he wonders. But Sam being Sam he certainly isn't going to draw attention to it if he's sick. Best to hide it and act like everything is fine... fine... Great, even.
As Sam moves behind the bar to get to the fire, Morris doesn't stop him, "Sam I hate to do this but I'm not answering any more questions if there's something wrong that needs attending to..." Morris suggests whilst clearing away the empty tankards.
As Sam looks back the whole group get a good look at him, now in the fire light. His skin has turned a sickly blue, similar to the hue that Lestheris, Halorin, and the others in the Grave Order bore upon their skin.
Serafina stands and shouts "Sam you look like death, put your ego aside and let someone take a look!" She then glances at Morris and realises what she has just said, she goes bright red and stammers out, "well not like death, I mean, you look real bad, not that death looks bad themselves, Morris I didn't mean-" morris puts a hand out to her lowering it and gesturing that he has taken no offence, but he doesn't take his eyes off of Sam.
Sam looks at Morris curiously asking "Something wrong?" Then his eyes go wide and dart to Serafina as she yells at him. "I... I don't... I mean sure, take a look?"
Sam looks at his own hands again and then back up at the others. "How bad do I look? I mean I was never gunna win any beauty contests but..." he shrugs instead of finishing whatever his thought was. "I don't know what this is. Whatever this is. But I think... I think it was Molly... My wife."
"Dead wife," he clarifies after a moment.
"She... She came to me while I slept just now. Said she could help." As Sam says help a light glows around him. A bright amber and pink light shines from him that he doesn't really seem to take note of.
"Said she would be walking the journey with me now..." Invisible fingers brush dirt off Sam, straightens his cloak, and basically tidies him up.
"Helping me. Helping us." The faint glow of a similar amber and pink light briefly descends upon Elthana and Gewyn and they each feel a momentary warmth and gain back a little strength. (Elthana regains 5 hp, Gewyn 2)
"If Molly's help comes with a cost of me not looking my best... Well it's not really a hard price to pay to have her presence here."
Amber and pink light shining around Sam: Light
Invisible fingers grooming / sprucing up Sam: Unseen Servant
Heals on Elthana & Gewyn: Healing Light feature
Molly presence: Pact of the Celestial
Vin is for the most part concerned that Sam might have inhaled some of those horrible spores like Neferox had, that is until the strange things started happening around him. Strange that is, for Sam, who had never shown much inclination towards magic beyond growing big and stuff.
He starts to open his mouth to suggest it might be something that the creatures from the shadow fell portal did to him, but shuts it without a word spoken. He instead looks to Neferox, who has raises her head from the floor to see what all the fuss is about, before going back to dosing in front of the fire. She doesn't much care what is happening to Sam, as long as it isn't a danger to Vin.
"Your dead wife is doing all that, Sam? The lights and straightening your cloak?", Vin asks. "I mean, I believe you. We have seen some strange things together, for example right now we are in an extra-dimensional tavern drinking ale with an aspect of the god of death. I mean, you are ok, right?"
Muir huffs as Sam moves away before he could check him out "Sam you look terrible. Are you cold? Is this why you moved to the fire? What if one of those undead inflicted you with some poison or some other infliction...Let us check and see. It is possible that your wife appearing to you in a dream is unrelated to the way you look."
"Doing it... giving me the power to do it... I don't know the precise details," Sam admits to Vin. "She's restless, I guess you'd say. Something about not being able to move on until the truth is known..."
"Not cold. Not precisely, Muir. More not warm, if that makes sense?" Sam says. "I'm fine though. Feeling better than fine. Kind of miss the buzz I had going but that has disappeared with all my various aches and pains. Back feels new again. Knee feels more solid than it was since the Cider Mill Incident of my youth. Check all you want, if you want, but it would be a mighty big coincidence for Molly's spirit to speak to me just as some poison kicked in, wouldn't it?"
"entirely possible..." Morris answers to Muir's question. "Souls can be used to power things, to power people. Loved ones passed can sacrifice some of themselves to give gifts to those left behind, when love is strong enough or there is business unfinished..
Sam, I'm truly happy that Molly has been able to pierce the veil and return to you, to help you and your friends, but the only way her assistance would turn you undead is if her soul had been sworn to nectyran, and that I can guarantee it has not, if it was I wouldn't have her memories...
We need to find out what is doing this to you or I'm afraid I would have to ask you to leave... An undead near my library could have dire consequences, no matter your intentions. Please do not misunderstand, this isn't an accusation but an offer of help." All amusement has been lost from Morris's voice now, replaced with polite but utter seriousness and sincerity.
"Undead? Who said anything about undead??" Sam asks a bit loudly even as he realizes he's only breathed in when he needs to say something... "You have her... Say again??"
"You have Molly's memories??" Sam asks calmly. Too calmly? "You know who killed her?"
Muir moves over to check on Sam. Looking for any wounds that could be infected or anything else out of the ordinary.
“Sam your are ice cold to touch and I can’t find you’re pulse….Perhaps someone else can try”
"And you think this is unusual for me?" Sam asks, unsure exactly what his normal resting heart rate or body temperature is. Some day someone should invent record keeping and filing cabinets and such...
Vin moves across towards Sam, a little more concerned now at all the talk of him being turned into an undead.
"Well, didn't you say you can't take the memories of one sworn to Nectyran, as all undead are, Morris? What if Sam gives you a tiny memory as a test", he says as he approaches the half-orc.
"And as for having someone else aid you and grant you gifts of power, I know a little about that, but not as much as someone else here", he says nodding towards Neferox. As he reaches Sam, he does as Muir asked and tries very hard to find pulse, assuming Sam lets him.
"Um, I can't find a pulse either, and Neferox says you smell like an undead. But she never did warm to you", Vin says worriedly.
Neferox is now looking far more alert as she stares at Sam.
Sam now assaulted by several people trying and failing to find his pulse, looks over to Morris at his question. Morris furrows his brows and cocks his head to a side, "Sam your wife is dead and I collect the memories of the dead, If Molly knew who killed her then so do I, but do you really want to find that out from me? Would you ask me to drag her memories forward for you?
I also know Maathai's initial reaction to finding a loxodon baby in the woods and her true reasons for taking him in. I know why Gewyn's parents abandoned him, I know what truly happened to Vin in that alley when he first met Neferox. I know what the look was on Mori's face as her baby died in her arms and I can only see it from the perspective of the baby.
I could show you all of these things, but I could never take it back once done, and some of you would likely never forgive me if I did...
Sam, when I was together with my siblings we waged war against the undead, I know undead and there's no mistaking it. Right now, you are one."
"Ok let us think about this rationally...Sam was attacked by multiple undead fiends, he handled the undead throwing them back through the portal, and rooted around their corpses finding trinkets and such, like the book in my bag. Sam do you have any wounds we do see? Touch anything that could have been cursed? I have handled the book and so has Vin, so it seems safe to say it is not the book."
"I smell like... Have you smelled your dog?? 'Cause trust me, we all do!" Sam protests but otherwise allows himself to be poked at.
"Why would I not want to find out from you?" Sam asks of Morris. "I won't like the answer to who killed Molly no matter how I find out but it's hard to bring the murdering scum to answer for their crimes if you don't know who the murderer is... And you think we're likely to forgive you for holding back information we feel vital to our lives now that you say you have it at your fingertips?" Maybe there was something here Sam wasn't understanding but he could see no reason he wouldn't want to know.
"Wounds? No. No wounds. Molly healed me up," Sam answers Muir. "I touched a lot of things cleaning up and disposing of the bodies. A lot of it wet and squishy and smelling like Neferox. I tried not to look too closely or think to much about what everything was, you know?"