He awoke as Bloodscream berated Chaindog. Where am I? The Forsaken landed gracefully to the floor, after having not-so-gracefully fallen from the Hall's rafters. He wasn't quite sure why the pungent smell of gnome was so alluring, though he didn't bother to fight it. He always had an open mind, after all. He eyed his surroundings and checked his hands; although he didn't recognize the building he was in, or those in it, things were well enough in order for his standards. "Hello-hello!" He spoke cheerfully, though to no one in particular. "Is this breakfast or dinner before me? Are we all here to eat?" This Forsaken assumed he had met many, if not all of those before him. In fact, he had never been to the Halls of the Grim before. His skin and bones were particularly dry, and picked as if he were incredibly old, or perhaps obsessively clean.