Offer a piece of your cake to the Plaguemaster Aquila!

Rashan

You always suspected that the Plaguemaster’s foul reputation was undeserved. You offer them a bite of your cake.

Aquila eyes your offering with disdain. At least, you think it’s disdain – the Plaguemaster’s mask hides any hint of an expression.

“What is that? Lemon cake? Well that explains the name…”

You ask what they mean.

“The other brutes were looking for you. You better hurry before you get beaten, or court-martialled, or whatever it is the Blademaster does to malingering layabouts.”

Oh, right.

Wave as you quickly pass him by

You’ve places to be!

SirPawsies

You give Aquila a quick wave goodbye as you run on ahead. You turn a corner, climb the central staircase, and find yourself in an open space. It’s the main hall – a room usually reserved for senators and bourgeois elites to engage in wholly legitimate political discussions.

There, in front of a particularly grand painting, you spot several of your dorm mates. Specifically, you see:

• A rat taking swigs from a peanut flask.
• A stone-faced mouse with a giant sword.
• An immense creature clad in heavy armour.

None of them have spotted you yet.

Who do you talk to and what do you say?