Though the previous encounter had handed him a cure, but it had left him indescribably exhausted. His ligaments feel so heavy that it is a challenge to keep upright. Therefore, Emet-Selch resigns himself to leaning against a crumbling stone wall just off the beaten path.

He sits there, eyes closed, one arm folded onto his lap, listening to the uneasy quiet. This place lacked the hum of a thriving city. It sounds like a city on the verge of death.

Eventually, he can hear the crunching sound of footprints nearby. He cracks his eyes open to look in the direction that they came from, mentally bolstering what strength he has to escape if necessary.