The atmosphere in the dining hall of the Guardian Tower was exquisite and eerie. Soft magic crystal lamps cast a warm yellow glow, illuminating the long dining table covered with snow-white linen. The air was filled with the aroma of roasted meat mixed with some kind of... preservative spice, an indescribable, chilling scent.
The waiters moved silently. They were not the living, but skeletons dressed in well-tailored, neatly-pressed black tailcoats, with small black bow ties.
White, bony fingers steadily held silver trays, their movements somewhat stiff, yet they carried a peculiar, rigid elegance. In the hollows of their eye sockets danced ghostly blue soul fires, quietly serving dishes to their master.
