Lounging about in the Waystation was nice, chores were temporarily over, and that’s when the magic 8-ball of communication came flying at you. Of course at this point you’d be able to catch it when Agamethus threw it at you to start conversation. The orange ghost ominously lingering just a little bit away wasn’t as ominous anymore. The magic 8-ball read,

”You look pale like a corpse. Go up to the greenhouse and get some sun.”

Wow. Thanks.