Later, after the horses are brought to the stable and given their own hay to eat, and the Mistwalkers have changed into more comfortable cotton clothes to shed the weight of their armor and weapons, they're finally able to enter the eatery for a much-deserved dinner. Inside is hustling and bustling with presumably every Mistwalker who resides in Terrance. Much like the guesthouse, the eatery is a repurposed home originally meant to simply house a family. Now, however, the living room is lined with tables along the walls, stools around the fire pit – where some are cooking their own meat – and one additional, long table table in the middle, where Lena is seen at the furthest end.

She cheerfully beckons them. “Please, grab your food and join me.”

Having no reason to refuse or really be apprehensive, the six journeyers comply. They each grab a plate and assemble various foods of their choice on it. Though Terrance isn't a Legion checkpoint, it still manages to have a respectable amount of food available, though admittedly slightly less than Rosemont. After collecting their meal, they join Lena at her table, where she invites them to sit directly next to her. Atticus and Zyra sit across from each other, perpendicular to Lena. Next to them are Veros and Kellar, then Royd and Erik, respectively.

“I hope you find your rooms in the guesthouse suitable to your needs.” The chief cordially welcomes them again, continuing their discussion from earlier.

“It's a very nice house.” Veros states. “We'll have no issue making ourselves comfortable.”

“It's been nothin' but tents and bedrolls for us the last several days.” Kellar gripes. “Sleepin' in a cot in an actual home is a very welcome change of pace.”

Royd nods in agreement. “Aye. Not as big of a change as the baths at Rosemont, but close.” He looks up at Lena with hopeful eyes and speaks in a soft tone. “I don't suppose you have baths here, too?”

“I'm sorry, Sir Darvenson.” Lena shakes her head, but is charmed by his almost child-like desire. “We don't have baths available here like Rosemont does, I'm afraid. The closest body of water is Lake Tyrmith, and it's twelve miles away.”

“Oh...” Royd hangs his head in utter defeat.

“You have more food here than I anticipated, I must admit.” Veros interjects, still surprised at the volume of fruit, vegetables, bread, and meat available despite Terrance lacking official support from the crown.

She gazes over at the long counter of foods, too. “Captain Roderick helps when we can by giving us a portion of Emergency Corps provision deliveries, including ice arcane stones to keep them cool. But we also have tiny farms ourselves, near the edge of the fortified area. Sadly, things are rather slow to grow thanks to the limited sunlight they receive under the veil of the fog.” Lena looks over the group and leans forward. “But don't let that distract you from your meals. Please, eat.”

The group doesn't hesitate to oblige, scarfing down their food with expressions of relief. Atticus also begins his feast while letting his eyes casually wander around the room. He notices most of the other Mistwalkers who live in Terrance seem to be paying no mind to their guests – a good thing, as this likely means their overnight stay isn't unwelcome. The knight turns his head to the opposite side of the room, behind Lena's chair, where an unlit corner of discarded items rest, presumably remnants of the family who lived in this home prior to the mist's arrival. It's mostly spare stools and fire logs, but tucked away underneath them is something that catches his attention: a baby's cradle, used now to hold small twigs for kindling. The tiny wooden bed causes him to stop eating and leer at it for a pronounced moment. None of the others at the table notice his odd behavior, as they're all busy focusing on the food in front of them, until Zyra lifts to her head. Like a considerate neighbor wondering if her companion is enjoying himself, she looks up at him to see how he finds his dinner, but catches his frozen, blank expression directed to the uninteresting part of the room. She follows his line of sight to the partially-obscured cradle, and, puzzled, looks back at him with inquisitive eyes.

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“Zyra, was it?” Lena suddenly speaks to the young pyromancer, who snaps out of her gaze at Atticus, who also snaps out of his own gaze at the cradle.

“Yes, ma'am.” Zyra stiffly responds.

“Please, no need to call me 'ma'am'. Just 'Lena' is fine.” The chief reassures the timid mage with a warm smile.

“But, aren't you a teacher? At the university?” Zyra returns, hesitant to even bring it up.

“I was.” Lena immediately answers with a dignified nod. “But I decided some months ago that I wanted to do something to assist with the Mistwalker initiative.”

The pyromancer glances at her host's right wrist. “If you don't mind me asking, where's your bracelet?”

“It's back in the manor.” Again, Lena answers with no reluctance or vagueness. “What do you think powers the arcane barrier around Terrance?”

Clear bewilderment washes over Zyra's face. “But don't you need a six-stone bracelet to convert into a barrier source?”

Lena looks into the pupil's eyes and wordlessly nods her head with a sly smile. The young mage soon comes to the realization.

“You have a six-stone bracelet?!” She almost yells in surprise. Zyra is flabbergasted that the person looking over Terrance, in such a dangerous area of the misty region, is not only a university teacher, but a potential candidate for Grandmaster, as well. “Why are you out here?”

The chief still smiles, touched at her guest's burst of curiosity. “As I said, I just want to help my fellow man. It's something important to me.” She leans back and slightly narrows her eyes. “I think it makes more sense for a six-stone mage to be out here than a two-stone one.” She says in a tone that's not necessarily judgemental, but interested.

Suddenly feeling insecure, Zyra looks down as her own bracelet. “I came out here to improve. Even though I'm a second year, my casting ability was terrible, so I figured the best way to become better quickly was to put myself under pressure.”

“And have you become better in the time you've been out here?”

Zyra nods. “I have.”

Lena shrugs. “If it works, it works. My inner teacher thinks it might be ill-conceived, though.”

“I didn't do it on my own.” The pyromancer continues, glancing at the knight across the table.

“Ah, I see.” The chief has a small epiphany. “It would indeed make a lot of sense to find pyromancy advice from a Threcian.”

“It wasn't planned, actually.” Zyra admits. “We just ran into him by circumstance.” She smiles, this time at Atticus, who gives a small smile back.

“Atticus, right?” Lena turns her attention to the knight. “I don't recall seeing a bracelet on you. Are you a current practitioner?”

“I'm not.” He admits matter-of-factly. “I did learn pyromancy when I was younger, but I simply traded my bracelet for a sword and shield. I'm a bit out of practice.”

“Don't be so modest.” Zyra interjects. “You said the same thing to me right before you did a silent incantation. You're still quite good.”

“Sounds like Zyra was lucky to find you.” Lena comments, impressed to hear of Atticus's feat. He doesn't reply, opting instead to ever-so-slightly smile and nod, stiffly accepting her compliment. “So...” Lena continues, shifting her focus to the whole group. “You all plan on continuing your journey in the morning, correct?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Veros answers.

“You sure you don't want to stay an extra night?”

Veros shakes his head. “It's probably best if we keep our momentum going. But, if you don't mind, I was wondering if you had information you could share – anything of the road ahead? Have you sent scouts further north at some point?”

“I've sent some scouting parties before, yes.” Lena responds, her face shifting to a somewhat grim expression. “I had intended on hopefully fortifying another village.”

“Let me guess...” Kellar interrupts. “They never came back?”

The chief shakes her head. “Almost. Two came back. They were part of our most recent attempts at expand northward.”

Veros leans forward, intrigued. “What did they discover, if anything?”

“They said they were ambushed by undead, as you might expect.” Lena recites the details she was told with blunt delivery. “But something was different about the undead further north. They were more aggressive. Smarter.”

The team leader's curiosity turns into confusion. “Smarter? In what way?”

“I'm sure the undead you've encountered so far have mostly been mindless husks who limp and lunge at you after flailing around without any rhyme or reason, correct? At most, some have possibly had the capacity to still run?”

“Yes.” Veros, not knowing where the conversation is heading, just nods with his confirmation.

“Well, according to my surviving scouts, things get a bit more complicated further north. The undead up there don't just shamble towards you and swing their limbs daintily. They use weapons. They fight. They think.”

The group falls silent, unsure of what to make of these claims. They all look back and forth at each other, trying to parse how literal her statements are.