Bastion was awoken -quite rudely he might add- by some sort of screaming ruffian who apparently thought fur was "in" this season. Bastion didn't even bother to move his head from the large book it was resting on. He was vaguely aware that he had been sleeping propped up in a chair at a table with a tome he had grabbed resting as a sort of pillow on his cheek. He was glad to have the book with him, after all he had disregarded the Baron's letter immediately when it had found it's way to his front door. He hadn't realised that attendance wasn't optional until the moment whatever it was that had come for him did. Bastion had in that moment thought of panicking, then deciding it was far to much trouble picked up the most recent hardback he had acquired and clung to it as he was dragged off in what he supposed was a troublesome manner. Deciding it was then time to panic, Bastion fainted almost immediately and now found himself groggily staring at some gigantor.
Having panicked far too much in the last 24 hours the young man sat up, opened his book and grabbed a piece of sweet looking bread that was withing his reach. Barely looking up he asked briefly
"Could someone pass me the butter?" before looking back down at the pages in front of him. Sure it wasn't home, but a garden of corruption was just as good a place to read as any.