"Hello?  Is there anyone here in the room?" Thraim calls from outside the room.

There is a rustling from within the bed, accompanied by a severe creaking of the frame, and a very deep voice, thick from sleep, calls out, "Hello?  Who is there?  Why have you awakened me?"

Snori moves into the doorway, shield up and hammer at the ready.

Semina walks in behind Snori, and stands a bit off to his left side.  "We mean you no harm," she pauses trying to chose her words carefully.  "My name is Semina," I remark softly.  "My companions and I are looking for a way out of the castle, and wondered if you might be able to help?"

There is a rustling of bedsheets behind the curtains, the sound of fabric tearing slightly, and a loud groan from the bed frame.  The sounds of a dressing gown being hastily donned are interrupted by additional fabric rips.  You realize the voice you heard earlier isn't thick from sleep, but is in fact appropriate to the figure that emerges from behind the bed to greet you.

A large ogress has dressed in clothing that is clearly far too small for her frame, and in the process has nearly shredded it to tatters.  She does seem excited to have you in the room, however, and proceeds to curtsey, further damaging the remnants of the dressing gown that is stretched to the limits of the fabric.

"Greetings!  Has been ages since I have been entertaining visitors!  I is Janet D'Amberville, and I is to be offering you some tea." recites the ogress, stumbling over some of the words with a hint of frustration on her face.

She turns to the tea cart next to her, which seems a toy in comparison, and begins to clumsily prepare some very delicate tea cups for use.

As Thraim steps into the room and lowers his crossbow, he says in a courtesy tone, "pleasure to meet you Miss D'Amberville.  Perhaps we can talk over a spot of tea?"

"Certainly, Sir Dwarf, I will begin pouring," Janet starts out, while clattering the tea set around with overlarge hands, breaking one of the cups.  "Merde!  I am still waking up, dear guests, and am clumsy from sleep.  If I may beg your pardon, it will take a moment to prepare things"

She seems intent on getting the refreshments prepared, and the look of concentration on her face occasionally gives way to frustration as saucers and cups are chipped with rough handling from ogre hands.

Semina walks over to the table as the ogre fumbles with the tea and saucers.  She places her hand under one, "Allow me to help you with that," she smiles up at Janet.  "I am Semina," she pauses for a moment, "the one who called out to you."  

Semina watches the ogre groggy demeanor, and steadies the cup as the tea is poured.   "Perhaps you should let me pour, since it was I who awoke you," Semina remarks.  "Please," Semina motions to a chair, "Let me wait upon you for your kindness and understanding."

Snorri takes up a position by the door in his best man-at-arms pose.

Sander enters the room with tempered amusement at the ogre's attempts to serve them.

Either thinking more guard is needed, or simply not wanting to get involved in the diplomacy he stands close to Snorri, and, attempting to speak below the commotion of chattering plates and small talk asks "Assume you've meet other ogres in this fortress then?"

"Nope", but we have been here long enough to learn that nothing is as it seems." Snorri mutters softly.

The ogress steps back from the tea service, surveying the wreckage with a visage that shows her mild anguish and disappointment.  "Thank you, kind mistress," she half-bows to Semina, then murmurs to no one in particular "one would think I be accustom after all this time, yet, some tasks remain out of reach."

You notice a bit of a hitch in her speaking, which is flawless for the most part, but sometimes it sounds like she is unable to correctly form certain parts of a sentence.

Miss D'Amberville, who or what has placed this powerful curse upon your family and mansion?  Can we escape it?  Who is responsible for this madness?"  Thraim inquires of the ogress.

Janet stares off in the distance for a bit, seemingly locked in an internal struggle to remember.  After a moment, she breaks her reverie, shaking her head to clear her mind.

"My brother Stephen would know best, but likely it was our own folly that led us here.  Delving into magical secrets best left unknown, arcane experiments not fit for mortal hands..." she trails off, returning in a gruff voice, "we not know when is time to stopping."

She clears her throat before continuing, "Taking on different forms was my speciality.  After changing into the form you see now, one of our wicked servants stole the items I need to reverse the spell." she again seems lost in her thoughts as her face slackens, "They left so long ago..."  Her attention returns to your party, "and I am sure they took these things with them.  Not that it would matter, I suppose, I feel myself slipping away more and more as the savage I have become takes over my mind.  I don't know how much longer the shreds of Janet will remain, or if sometime the brutal nature of this body will simply shatter all that is left and leave nothing behind of the woman I once was."

Her voice cracks again as she slumps down at the foot of the bed to obvious complaints from the bedframe, "Good.  Tea ready.  We have tea now.  Tea good."  The moment passes with an embarrassed look on Janet's visage.

Kagan cannot help but feel sad for the Ogress. He feels an uncanny connection to the creature, with his own mind trap in a monstrous body, charged with all the prejudices that come with it.

"How did these wicked servants of yours leave the place?"