Robhan frowns at the 'goblin' bleeding on the floor - Geran lad, is that you? he whispers. [If the page is still alive (or at least above -10hp), Robhan bandages his wounds and casts a minor curative spell apologising profusely...].
"Wise words Patriarch - but I fear that deadly foes will appear swiftly enough, and granting them first strike might be granting them last also. I shall endeavour to use my voice before any blade in future - had the goblin not fled I would have done so but I feared it sought to bring some fell master."
Robhan frowns, "so much for preparations, I had holy water and oil both and much more besides. At least my armour is here - or at least, its semblance - I wonder if our garments are merely what we have dreamed into being that is here - I put much thought into how to chase functional armour with silver in order to face vampires and argued long and hard with the armourer over his labours, but merely requisitioned all else that I brought beyond my personal effects - the rest meant nothing to me beyond providing function."
[Carrying the bandaged page to a bed to recover / covering him decently with a sheet as appropriate] Robhan looks at the others.
"However we are here, indeed whether we are truly here or not - there is little to be gained by standing about. I suggest we explore, and look for structures that should not be about - for sure enough should something be grossly out of place - beyond the expected madness - then it may be key to revealing the truth behind the facade in which we walk."
With no further word Robhan follows the Patriarch down the corridor and readies his blade as the Patriarch prepares to open the door.
