HabmorÂ’Anto - the Prison
Yetta gladly recovers her own gear as well, taking a little time getting things sorted and set, finally putting on her hat and, with a soft sigh, settling back into the image she has grown more accustomed to seeing reflected back at her.
"I don't know. Do you suppose a tower can go down?" she muses. "I guess that's not very likely. Vaden said the dark elves will be along at some point - we could pretend to be survivors and maybe they'd take us somewhere useful?" she suggests.
She does look interested, of course, as Ayas points out the things he's taken note of, seeming most curious about the various beads and the cloak, though the trumpet draws a more incredulous, "Who enchants a trumpet? A lyre I can see, but... well, anyway, I can help figure out what they all are when we have time, but I don't think we want to sit here that long, whatever we're doing next."
"Oh! Hey, speaking of time, things have been a little hectic. Varl, Ayas, thank you both. I'm Yetta. It's nice to properly meet you both." She offers the two a smile.