Elsewhere, far from the forest trail and firelit hush of Ludwig's camp, a loud and unapologetic sneeze echoed through the marbled corridors of the Sacro Sanctum's east wing.
The Sacrosanctum seemed to be bubbling with people from all over the place, having gathered for what looked like a holy event.
The priests, nuns, clerics, and paladins were all moving like worker bees, tending to the matters of the sanctum. While deeper into the sanctum in a far-away dining room, an overly large man was in the company of a few clerics who seemed to wish to be anywhere else but here.
"Gods above," Hiro muttered, sniffling into the sleeve of his opulent tunic, which was gold-threaded and slightly stained near the cuffs from some forgotten lunch. He dabbed theatrically at his nose, wincing. "Why is the wine so sour here? I told them to chill it, not boil it."
