An academic sort of gentleman, just slightly disheveled-looking, is still stuffing himself with surface delicacies. He arrived at the party very late, still swaying a little, like someone who has been at Zee for a long time. He doesn’t take the time to raise a toast but those standing nearby hear him muttering to himself…
“Festival, what a laugh! Oh, let the dotards feast! They wouldn’t know better… would drop dead, permanently!, if they had but the slightest idea… hm! delicious!.. that bastard Orthos! Ha! Won’t bother me for a while… went too far north this time. Long way back from there, if at all… still, no time to waste. Have to find His Lordship… shouldn’t be hard, place like this. Just follow the loudest laugh…”
With that, he broke away from the buffet and plunged himself into the midst of the party-folk, hardly glancing at anyone, hardly drawing a glance to himself. But those who’d heard him say “North” found themselves feeling peculiarly hungry…