"My parlor," a man's voice answers from one of the thirteen chairs. An immaculately dressed man sits nearest the drink cart, calmly pouring himself a crystalline glass of something strong. Only when Felih gets a good look at the man does he see just how gaunt and bony this gentleman is. He seems to take it all in stride, though, taking a sip of his drink with blued lips. Upon his lapel is a triplet of Nymeia lilies, tied with a delicate black ribbon.

"Welcome, Mister Tia. I am Death, or Mortimer, if you prefer. It is good to finally meet you. I trust the other Travelers have answered your questions about our... situation by now?"