Reorik would hardly notice the smell of burning cloth and burning herbs disappeared, being replaced with a slight hint of burning flesh. The young goblin jumped up frantically, pounding on the door as tears continued to flow down his face, "Please.... let me out..." ,his hands twisted the knob of the locked door hard. His 'trip' was begining to end, once more the boy would forget why he was even crying, only the sense of fear remained.

He would remain on his knees, drained mentally and leaning his head against the doorframe. It really could be considered his most pathetic moment in his father's eyes, who came to mind as Reorik backed away from the door, sitting in the center of the inn room, watching to see who would come through the door. The figures around him remained in the back of his mind, still staring at him accusingly, as they faded on the wave of reality washing over the young goblin.