Gomor waved his trumpet through the air. "Nothin' a good trumpet blast cannae fix! Woken' some'a tha snoriest dwarfolk, it has. Should I play Roar 'o tha Boar o' Moor or Tha Squeel tha' Tore Thra tha Night?"
Peter - well a deep sleep could be doused by a many of things. Poison, sickness, her body could just be shutting down, and yes magic in all it's horror could also be the case. Let us hope it's not, curses are hard to break.
Lord Varel - "If It is a poison it would have to be very specialized one... I've never heard of one that could fell one of our kind... And I've been around a very long time. There is another cause for me to think it to be magical in nature. There is a woman that frequents the goblin market. They call her the wood witch... I found a note a while back that was signed in her name. It was a death threat aimed at my sister."
Lord Varel - "I haven't a clue... The witch has been rumored to be working with death magics. Perhaps they are related somehow.? That is however pure conjecture. As far as I know neither of us has had any contact with the woman."
The man seemed to consider it a moment. but then he shook his head.
Lord Varel - "If I thought that it would help then I would certainly agree. But I have scoured the diary and I can assure you that there is nothing that relates to this situation in it. There are things that I can not allow to become public knowledge in it."