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* Rhys unlocks the front door from the inside, but doesn't open it. Two candles burn on the bar, providing all the light for the room. As he returns behind the bar, he almost whispers, "Hall's open." * Summer heads down the stairs and to the bar. "Good evening Rhys." * Adam does his best to slip through the door, "Hello." <Rhys> Evening, Summer, Adam. What can I get for you? * Adam heads for the bar, "May I have a meade Rhys?" <Rhys> Of course, Adam. ::he pours Adam a mug of the house meade and sets it in front of him:: <Summer> Cider would be very pleasant, thank you. * Rhys pours a mug of cider for Summer. "A wish I can grant. Here you are." * Adam takes a seat at the bar and drinks deeply, "Thank you Rhys." <Rhys> Most welcome. * Orlann slips in, a little more conspicuously than most, as he is carrying a large bag that wriggles slightly. Both he and the bag are extremely wet. <Rhys> Evening, Corporal.... what do you have there? * Kevil enters cautiously. A fresh bruise decorates his face, and he moves with less than usual of his innate grace, as if exhausted. He nods a greeting to the room in general as he crosses to the bar. He gives Orlann a mildly curious look as he seats himself. * Glossaria stumbles down the steps yawning hugely and clad only in a loosely-wrapped bed sheet. Her mud-brown hair is tousled and showing faintly green at the roots, like reverse grass. <Orlann> ::looks up:: Trout, mostly. Thought I saw a catfish in the mess, but's mostly trout. * Glossaria blinks and freezes halfway down the steps, looking around with wide eyes. "Oh... dear. Is it Monday evening already?" <Rhys> Glossaria, should I look into procuring you some additional attire? And you've been fishing, have you, Corporal? * Summer nods to the others and sips her cider. Her eyebrows raise slightly when she sees Gloss. * Orlann turns nearly purple and hastily turns around. * Felice scratches at the door, "Meow." <Rhys> Orlann, I think your catch has made you a friend. Could you get the door, please? Just a crack, of course. * Orlann seems glad of anything to do that doesn't involve gawping at a nearly nude Glossaria and opens the door. * Glossaria blinks again. "Pardon me. I'll be back in just a moment." She turns, gathers the trailing bit of her sheet over her arm as if she were carrying a train, and heads back up the stairs. <Kevil> ::looks at Orlann's dripping clothing and raises an eyebrow:: You went swimming? There are still fish in the canals? * Felice in her Siamese form darts through the door and begins rubbing against Orlann's leg, {My fisherman.} <Orlann> ::checks over his shoulder to make sure Gloss is out of sight:: Not 'zactly, no... saved a man who'd got his boat turned over on him. He split his haul with me. * Orlann opens the bag and finds a smallish trout. "Kitty?" <Kevil> ::grins:: That was neighborly of you. And him. ::he stretches, then turns to Rhys:: Might I have some ale, Master Rhys? * Felice stands on her hind legs, trying to bat the fish out of Orlann's hand, {Fish! My Fish! Give me my Fish you tease!} <Rhys> Of course, Master Bard. ::he pours him a mug of brown ale:: Corporal, would you care for something to wet your whistle with? * Summer smirks as she watches Felice. * Orlann drops onto one knee, making a nice puddle underneath himself, and offers the fish to the cat. <Orlann> ::nods:: Yessir, please? Some juice'd be great, if you've got it. I'd 'bout kill someone for some fresh fruit this summer. * Felice jumps at the fish, trying to catch a hold of it. <Orlann> ::giving the fish over:: Now, be neat with that, mind... Don't think Master Rhys'd be too fond of you iffen you made yourself a mess here on the floor. * Kevil takes a long draught from his mug and leans tiredly on the bar, watching Felice dance for her fish with a faint smile. * Glossaria returns and hurries down the stairs, hair combed, dressed decently in a light grey gown. "My apologies. I'm afraid my sense of timing has been somewhat... out of synch of late. Good evening, all." <Rhys> Why I think we have a bit still in our stores. Apple or pear strike your fancy? <Orlann> Apple'd be just fine... * Felice takes the fish in her jaws and bounds on top of the bar before beginning her meal. * Rhys looks at Felice and sets a few rags aside for extra clean-up duty, and then pours Orlann a mug of apple juice. "Glossaria, would you care for anything to drink?" * Orlann stands up and offers the rest of the bag to Rhys. "I ain't got near enough room to gut these over to our place... I'll do't here, if you have a bin or somethin?" <Rhys> Why, how kind of you. Yes, we have something. I'll be right out with a plate for the meat, and a small barrel for the rest, as soon as I know I'm not needed here. <Glossaria> I was just coming down for a posset, as I was having difficulty sleeping. Might you be willing to make me one? With scotch, please, not brandy. * Adam shakes his head and has some of his meade as he watches the cat eat. * Orlann looks up from his fish. "It's good t' see you again, Missus Glossaria." <Glossaria> ::smiles:: Good to see you as well, Corporal Orlann. I do apologize if my dishabille in any way offended your sensibilities. <Rhys> I'd be happy to, Glossaria. Do you take it with or without egg? <Glossaria> With, please. * Orlann attempts to follow that from one end to the other, blinks a few times in confusion, then darkens again. "Oh, no, ma'am, I ain't *offended*-like. Just not quite accustomed t' seein' young ladies in less'n company dress." <Glossaria> ::blinks thoughtfully:: If you're seeking experience, you might try a visit to Pleasure Island. Although I imagine there are access restrictions of some sort in place, currently. * Orlann couldn't get more purple if he was painted. "No ma'am, I don't reckon I'm lookin' for that." * Felice flips her fish over as she finishes one side of it and begins working on the other. * Rhys begins adding powders from under the bar to a smaller mug, wanders into the kitchen, comes out again after adding some frothy egg to the mug, then he pours in some steaming milk, and finally a healthy portion of Moonshaen whisky to the mug. "Here you are. I hope it aids you in what you wish it to." * Kevil combs his fingers through his hair, wincing slightly as he pulls on a few tangles, and takes another drink of his ale. "I suppose it would be too much to hope that someone stumbled across any information about the palace this week?" Not really expecting a positive answer, he doesn't bother looking up. He rubs his eyes instead, and gingerly pokes at the edges of his bruised cheek. * Rhys heads back into the kitchen again and comes back out with a long serving platter and a small barrel. He puts the barrel by Orlann's feet, and the platter on the table next to him. "As you asked for, Corporal." He sets a sharp knife on the platter. <Rhys> Should I ask what caused the bloom on your cheek, Master Bard, or is the most likely answer also the correct one? <Glossaria> Oh. Well enough. ::cocks her head at him:: That's an unusual color, Corporal. Are you feeling quite alright? Not apoplectic, I hope? <Kevil> ::gives Rhys a wry smile:: I suspect the answer would not come as a surprise, no. The overseer at the docks was in a foul mood today. <Glossaria> Thank you, Master Rhys. ::smiling and taking a small sip from the hot mug:: * Summer sits back quietly and sips her cider, listening. * Orlann sets up for fish-cleaning. "No, ma'am, it's natural enough, tho iffen you keep up flusterin' me so, I might end up cleaning me, instead of these here fish." * Felice looks up at Kevil's comment, then shifts until she crouches on the bar in her half-human form. In addition to her usual shorts and top she wears a set of fingerless gloves. Three sharp blades project from the back of each glove in a manner similar to Lisl's claws, "You don't want to go to the palace unless you've cornered the market on soap." <Glossaria> ::taking another sip:: You do not have scales, Corporal. <Kevil> ::starts as Felice changes shape, then grins at himself:: I thought you looked familiar... You have been to the palace? * Orlann nearly falls out of his chair at Felice's sudden transformation. "Holy mother o' the gods!" * Glossaria blinks, and then smiles. "Felice! Good to see you well." * Felice picks up her fish and resumes eating it, nodding to Kevil and talking around the fish, "Uh-huh." * Rhys coughs. "Humanoid creatures not allowed on the bar. Down, please." * Kevil straightens and turns toward the cat-girl with sudden ill-disguised eagerness. "How far in did you get? What did you learn?" * Felice removes the fish and cocks her head at Orlann, "You know 'Chelle? No wait, that's Nachan." * Felice pouts at Rhys but hops off the bar, and onto a stool. * Felice chews her fish some more, "Umm... I think just about everywhere. And I'm not really sure what I learned. But Bea says we to do something soon or the mercenaries are going to spread the disease to everyone in town." * Summer frowns. <Kevil> ::sighs:: Yes. Can you just describe what you saw? * Orlann stares for a long moment, then recalls himself and gets to work on the fish. * Felice has some more fish, "Umm... They got rid of the horses and are keeping their DOGS in the palace." <Kevil> Dogs. What kind of dogs? * Felice gestures towards the door, "The same things they've been using in town. I think the palace is where they keep them when they're not being used." * Glossaria watches Orlann interestedly as she listens to Felice. <Kevil> Mm. What else? How good is your memory? Do you think you could sketch a map of the building? Doors and walls and windows? * Felice frowns, "Maybe... I don't think so though. Everything's a lot bigger when I'm small." * Felice makes a face, "If you're planning on visiting though, wear boots that you don't mind burning afterward. I've met pigs with better hygiene than those orcs." * Summer nods a bit and sips her cider. <Kevil> ::grimaces in frustration:: All right... I have special clothes for the work I want to do in there... How many of them are there? Even just guesses. A dozen? Fifty? Did you see the general? Woundwort? * Felice finishes her fish and tosses the remains into Orlann's bucket before taking one of Rhys's towels and wiping her mess up off the bar, "Hundreds... I think. And yes, I saw the general. He's a bully." <Kevil> ::closes his eyes:: *Hundreds...* ::takes a deep breath:: Yes, I assumed he would be of less-than-pleasant character. Where was he? With the rest of them? Or in his own area? <Felice> ::Pauses in her cleaning to think:: Most of the orcs are living in the palace dungeons, the rest do the best they can to find shade and stay out of the sunlight. They've got all the windows covered so no light can get in, and they only have a few dim torches to light the place. I dont' know if humans could see in there at all. <Kevil> ::looks a little less dismayed:: Well. Something might be arranged, if they're clustering together like that... What about the general? * Felice resumes cleaning, "The general lives at the top of the palace. He had some mages with him as well. Apparently the mages, the general, and presumably a sizable number of the officers are all part human. So they don't mind the light." <Kevil> At the top... ::considers:: Parts of the palace are visible from blocks away. Do you think you could point out for me or someone else exactly which section he is living in? Without having to go back in? * Felice finishes cleaning up her mess and looks to Rhys, "Do you have any cream? Or better yet, ice cream?" She bounces noticeably on her stool. <Rhys> I do have cream. Ice cream... I'm saving, for happier times. One moment. * Felice tilts her head, "Maybe... I know it's the third floor... I'm not sure if I could point out his individual suite of rooms." * Felice shudders, "They wanted to put me in a stew pot. Bad, mean, stupid, smelly dog orcs." * Rhys gets a mug like Glossaria's, goes back into the kitchen, and returns with it filled with thick white cream, which he sets in front of Felice. "Here you are." * Orlann debones a few cleaned fish, making neat fillets. * Felice claps her hands together and smiles brightly, "Thank you Rhys!" <Kevil> Ah, well... And he has mages... ::frowns, then turns to Glossaria, reaching out to touch her arm:: Bright angel... I had hoped you might stand at your husband's side for this battle, but... ::he looks sorrowful:: We will need more powerful magic than I can summon to take the palace, I think. Would you consider that errand? <Glossaria> ::takes a sip of her posset, considering:: Who will be set to guard Vallel? * Felice frowns as she sips her milk, "The mages don't live there... But I don't know when they are or aren't there. Or when Worthead sleeps." <Kevil> ::solemnly:: If he consents, Diya will guard Vallel. He is a fearsome warrior, and can touch some of the Bright Lady's gift, even here, so far from home. <Kevil> ::to Felice:: I understand. I do not... suppose you happened to notice how they control the dogs, within the palace? Command words, or signals? * Felice tilts her head in thought, "They keep the bureaucrats on the first floor. We might be able to bribe them. They looked like they'd kill for the opportunity to kill something." <Kevil> ::raising his eyebrows:: Human, or orcish? <Glossaria> ::nods:: Diya is family. I trust him to guard Vallel with care. ::biting her lip:: I'll go to the palace. * Felice thinks, "Umm... I think by keeping them locked up and on leashes... At least I hope that's how they do it. And I hope they feed the dogs soon. They were fighting each other for their meals when I was there." <Felice> Orcish bureaucrats. He was sitting on a divan and wearing blue robes. He was really funny looking. I wanted to play with him. ::gives a toothy grin:: * Orlann takes out a large black cat-fish, fat with roe. "Nice." He begins skinning it. <Kevil> ::leans over to kiss Glossaria's forehead:: Thank you, bright angel. I would not ask, if the situation were not dire. But I think even Corporal Orlann here might require more assistance than I alone can give with a hundred orcs *and* the possibility of mages at the general's side, d'va? <Kevil> ::eyes Felice:: Troops in the dungeons, bureaucrats on the first floor, the general on the third... What is on the second? * Felice sips her milk, "The part human orcish troops." <Kevil> The officers? Hmm. ::he picks up his ale and takes a drink:: This will require careful planning... * Orlann looks up at Kevil's somewhat backhanded compliment. "I'd be glad of your assistance, Missus Glossaria, n'truth." <Felice> Oh, I over heard one of the mages talking to a merc. I think it was the lead merc actually. The mage said they're working on rings and things so the orcs won't be blinded by the sun. <Kevil> Bright Lady... That is the *last* thing we need... The mage did not happen to give a timetable for such production, did he? <Glossaria> Hmmm... ::frowns slightly, regarding Orlann:: Master Kevil, what is the timetable for attack? Will the Mage Tower be defunct before we attack the palace? * Felice shakes her head, her tail following a beat behind, "No... But the merc said that if they aren't finished soon that the mercs might revolt. Apparently they're even more bored than the orcs." * Summer finishes her cider and pushes her empty cut aside. <Kevil> ::to Glossaria:: My plan was to strike all three targets at once, so that none could assist the other. I am willing to consider a change of plan, if you have a compelling reason. * Felice frowns, "The mage threatened him though. Said something about a reminder." <Kevil> ::blinks at Felice:: A reminder? What sort of reminder? * Felice shakes her head again, "I don't know. But the merc was scared. Even a human would have been able to smell the fear off of him when the mage said that." <Glossaria> ::cocking her head:: My concern is that the palace might be forewarned of the attack if the mages are still able to see through Corporal Orlann's eyes, and warn them. Hmmm.... unless.... * Felice shudders and has more cream, "The mage REALLY wants to give the mercs a reminder." <Kevil> ::makes a face:: Damn... <Kevil> ::to Glossaria:: Alternatives? * Orlann colors again at this reminder. * Glossaria takes another sip of her posset, pulling out her notebook and flipping through it thoughtfully. "A moment, please." * Felice tilts her head, absently licking at her lips as she watches Gloss. <Kevil> ::glances worriedly at Orlann, then looks back to Felice:: Did you overhear any other conversations? * Felice nods, "One of the mages told Worthead that they'd loaded everything onto the ships and were ready to sail away." * Glossaria glances sidelong at Felice and moves her posset over to her other elbow before continuing to flip through. * Felice frowns, "It was confusing... One moment it sounded like they were ready to march on Suzail and the next it sounded like if the dragon didn't show up soon they were going to run for the hills with their tails between their legs." <Kevil> ::runs a hand through his hair again:: Interesting. I wonder which ships... ::he shakes his head:: <Glossaria> Hm. ::taps a page:: Perhaps, were the Corporal willing, we could provide the mages with an illusion to distract their attention. Through his eyes, of course. * Felice thinks as she has some more cream, "Oh, and the mage said something about being able to conquer the cities because of some 'watchers.' The mage seemed to think that would keep Worthead from bullying him, but Worthead just hit him anyway and threatened to feed him to the dragon." <Orlann> ::firmly:: I ain't likely to complain 'bout anything that c'n help us get my Tarri back safe 'n sound. <Kevil> ::nods thoughtfully at Glossaria's suggestion:: Simple enough, with the Corporal's permission. Even I could handle it. Have you anything in your book that might assist you in immobilizing a hundred or more orcs and- ::looks at Felice, then turns to stare at Orlann:: Watchers. You are not the only one. * Felice blinks at Orlann, "Lann's a watcher?" * Orlann flinches. <Kevil> If the word means what I think it does, yes. Unwillingly, and until recently, unknowingly. <Kevil> ::scratches at his beard:: I wonder if they have only one watcher per city, or several. ::he grimaces:: Diman's glare burn them... <Glossaria> ::looks up again from her book, cocking her head at Orlann again:: Now that I've seen the spell effect, I believe I would recognize it again if I used the same spell on another. But I can hardly wander the city wearing magical glowing spectacles. <Kevil> ::shakes his head:: No. I think we must move forward, and quickly. We can not possibly root out every possible spy before moving, especially if they are unaware of their roles. The best way to render a spy harmless is to remove the authority which gathers his information. All signs seem to point to a critical moment in the near future. We must take advantage of their weaknesses before they can counter them. <Glossaria> ::nods:: Felice? Have you a sense of the numeric ratios amongst the orcs? In plainer language, what percentage of those "hundreds" are full orc, compared to half? * Felice sips her milk, "If we're going into the palace I think we'll need two teams. Their are two sets of stairs, one at each end of the floors. They'll be able to escape or call reinforcements if we stick together in one group... flaming oil down the stairs to the dungeons might give us some time alone with the part humans. Though where we'd get flaming oil I don't know." <Kevil> ::to Glossaria:: If you are coming to the palace... Concentrate on the creative use of whatever spells you have available to affect the largest number of foes possible. The Corporal and I will- ::he breaks off to look at Felice again:: Are you volunteering to join us at the palace? * Felice shakes her head, "Sorry. I tried to get a count, but they all moved around too much." <Glossaria> ::shakes:: Not an accurate count, merely an estimate. One in twenty, for example? Half and half? <Kevil> ::thoughtfully:: Most of the part-humans are on the second floor, she said, anyway. What have you in mind, angel? * Felice grooms her whiskers, "Where else would I be. No one else has been in there. Besides, they tried to eat me. Can we burn the stables down first though. Even I couldn't take on all those dog things at once." * Felice shakes her head and points to the floor, "Lots," points to the ceiling, "Not as many." <Kevil> ::nods:: Perhaps not fire, but we will be certain to ensure the dogs are not loosed on us. <Glossaria> ::sighs:: Well... it was a hope, at least. ::looking at Kevil:: If the orcs are truly debilitated by sunlight, I can think of any number of uses for light spells that might strongly hinder them. * Orlann finishes gutting and cleaning the fish, then pulls out a handful of black-shelled oysters and one highly irate crab from the bottom of the sack. "Ow!" <Kevil> ::grins:: Good. Keep thinking along those lines. Some way to seal the dungeons so they cannot come out to reinforce their general and officers would be ideal, also, if you can think of something. <Glossaria> ::raises her eyebrows as she looks at the crab:: Ah! Hm... no, perhaps not. I have few talents in that field.... <Kevil> ::whips around at Orlann's exclamation, then sags in relief as he sees the crab:: <Felice> ::Felice's eyes light up as she sees the crab, and she visible restrains herself from batting it out of Orlann's hand.:: <Orlann> ::around the finger he has stuck in his mouth:: So'y <Kevil> ::to Glossaria:: What field, angel? Share any idea. I *do* have *some* magical skill; there is a bare chance that I may have touched upon an area you have not. ::he grins:: <Glossaria> I was thinking more in the lines of priestly talents. Marsember is flanked by the sea... if we could seek the aid of some of its denizens ::nodding to the crab:: against the orcs, that would be of aid. But Lord Erdian holds no sway in the natural realms. * Adam sighs, "If I was going with you I could just seal the entrance to the dungeons over. They'd have to tunnel their way out." <Kevil> Ah, well... ::sighs and closes his eyes:: We are spread thin for priestly talent, I fear, with Loria... <Glossaria> Or... oh! stay a moment... have you an idea of the number of dog-creatures the orcs have? And just how large they are? * Felice holds her hand off the floor, indicating a creature the size of a large wolf. "I don't know how many they have. I didn't want to get close enough for them to see or smell me." <Glossaria> Hm... they were chained together? * Felice shakes her head, "They were in the stables. That's all I saw." <Kevil> ::to Felice:: Do you know where the door is that leads to the dungeons? * Felice nods, "Yes... But there might be other doors that I didn't find." <Kevil> I doubt there would be more than a few. Such doors would, under normal circumstances, have to be under heavy guard, d'va? If we could... reinforce the door, that would contain those below, yes? <Glossaria> Hm. I shall have to think on it more.... and the feasibility of fashioning an illusory landscape for Master Orlann. ::sighs:: I do wish I'd been able to study that spell trace in greater detail, but it faded as soon as the blood dried. ::sounding faintly offended:: * Orlann considers the still-hostile crustacean for a while, then bonks it sharply over the head with the hilt of his fileting knife. * Adam drains his mug. <Kevil> Allow me to consider the illusion for the Corporal. I have been... practicing my illusions diligently in the last months, and I would rather you save your strength and talent for such spells as I am unable to consider, d'va? ::smiles:: <Glossaria> Holding a door takes little enough. ::frowning:: The difficulty is *keeping* it held, if there are enemy mages about. <Kevil> ::shrugs:: *Any* delay would be welcome, at this point. Perhaps if we used several methods to seal the door, then we could dispatch the mages before they could unseal it. <Glossaria> ::nods:: I believe I shall concentrate my efforts on the untraditional. ::her smile has a wicked edge:: Traditional mages do not cope well with chaos magic. Or... hm. Well... given the nature of our enemy, perhaps demon magic would be... unwise. * Orlann gawps at Glossaria for a moment before turning his attention back to the vicious crab, which seems to be resisting his efforts to kill it. <Kevil> ::drains his mug:: I should not wish to walk into such danger without taking the necessary time to consider what each of us might do, by plan and in emergencies. Let us take a few days to think and to plan, and then... Then we will set our plans in motion, d'va? <Rhys> Last call, everyone. * Felice flexes her hand, the leather of her gloves creaking slightly, "I think it's about time to find out if these are as good as Adam insists they are." * Adam waves Rhys off, "No more for me, thank you Rhys." * Glossaria sips her cooling posset. "This is sufficient, Master Rhys, thank you." * Orlann glowers at the crab, then picks it up by one pincer and slams it against the table. This appears to at least stun the thing. * Felice looks wistfully at Rhys, "Do I get ice cream if we get rid of the orcs?" <Glossaria> ::nods to Kevil:: Have you considered to what uses the Psionics Academy might be put? <Kevil> ::laughs shortly:: I have considered *many* uses, depending on what talents might be made available. <Rhys> Yes, Felice. When the orcs are gone, you may have some ice cream. * Felice grins, picking up her mug, "Goody!" <Glossaria> ::nods:: Would you like me to ask Vallel to make contact with Master Bluestar, then, or should we wait? <Kevil> By all means, make contact. I could use properly-talented psionics to spy ahead of our infiltrators, to perform subtle sabotage, or to engage in direct combat. * Summer moves from her stool. "Goodnight everyone." She waves a bit and heads for the stairs. <Rhys> Good night, Summer. <Glossaria> Goodnight, Summer. * Orlann hands over the bin of fish fillets, several shucked oysters and one concussed crab. "Here you are, Master Rhys." <Kevil> ::nods to Summer as she heads upstairs:: <Rhys> Thank you, Corporal. I'll put these in the coldbox, and I'll fix fish fillets for everyone next week. Take care of yourself. * Felice bounces, "I'll be here!" <Kevil> I think it is time I went home. ::he stands and stretches, then musses his hair one more time before heading for the door:: * Felice drains her mug, "I should go to. Aunty Bea will think they caught me." <Glossaria> Goodnight, Master Kevil. Be well. It was good to see you as well, Felice. <Rhys> Good night, everyone. Be careful. * Felice waves, "Night Glossy." * Felice changes to her Siamese form and hops to the floor, waiting for someone to open the door for her. * Orlann nods to Rhys, then gulps down the last bit of his juice before likewise heading out the door. * Adam gets up and heads towards the door, "Goodnight everyone." * Adam holds the door for Felice, then exits himself. * Glossaria raises an eyebrow and frowns, glancing at her arm. "Hm." * Rhys follows the large man and the cat to the door and locks it behind them. <Rhys> Something bothering you, Librarian Anobium? <Glossaria> ::looks up:: Do I look shiny to you, Master Rhys? <Rhys> Not in this light. I think that Felice meant it as a nickname. <Glossaria> Ah. Hm. I don't understand the logic of lengthening a short-name with unnecessary syllables. Ah, well. ::finishes her posset and yawns:: I believe, at least, that I will be able to sleep again now. Thank you, Master Rhys. <Rhys> Good night, Librarian. I'll see if I can find a timepiece for you, to help you re-acclimate. <Glossaria> ::smiles:: Thank you, Master Rhys. ::slides off her stool and pads back up the stairs to bed:: * Rhys blows out the candles on the bar and begins to clean up the Hall, taking the dirty dishes and empties into the kitchen. |
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