It had really only been a short time since Mallory had left the Luskan Arms before yet she felt - and certainly looked - utterly drained as if having been away for ages by the time she dragged herself back in.  Just a quick scuffle with some Trolls, a chat with the Speaker, no big deal?  But as conversation on the way back to the inn faded and the Diviner was left with her thoughts once more, they took an obvious and immediate toll on her.  Her eyes, exhausted and red from crying, face smeared with dashes of make-up she hadn't been able to fully wipe away, gazed about the room as she entered.  A warm hearth to rest beside, companions to confide with... yet there was really only one thing that leaped to Moira's mind as she clenched her fist about that little black button she carried.

I need a drink.

She started for the bar before anything else, yet Dannika's relieved enthusiasm caught her halfway there.  Though startled back a bit from the torrent of questions, after she managed to take a shaky breath, Mallory forced a weak smile onto her tear and cold-reddened face.  "It's... it's okay, Dannika darling, calm down.  The Trolls are... done for, I suppose.  Speaker Naerth has allowed me one of the... ugh... corpses to salvage.  I imagine someone will be along to tell us where the bodies have been moved soon." It was more dismay over taking apart a creature that had been holding a conversation just shortly prior that caught in Mallory's throat than simply being a corpse.  "I'd appreciate your help in the matter, if you'd be so kind.  We'll need a stronger arm than either of us have as well, I would think."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:07, Fri 09 July 2021.

In reply to Mallory Bonheur (msg # 22):

Rhydd said "'S'cuse me for a moment," to Hiln, then turned and moved towards the bar -- which was where Lady Mallory seemed to be heading.

She still did not look rather steady on her feet -- the old fishermans' saying about someone being "green around the gills" came to mind. He supposed that she was still a little shaky after the battle with the two Trolls.

He gave the wizardess a long look. "Lady Mallory . . . mayhap you should take a seat. I'll bring you your drink."

Then he cocked his head to one side, much in the manner of a hound that has heard a strange sound. "What did you mean when you spoke of 'salvaging' one of the dead Trolls?"

Before the wizardess replied, Rhydd had welcomed the Goliath who had just stepped through the door with a curt smile and a nod of his head. He knew that she had taken some punishment from the Trolls, and was watching Farwalker closely to see how well she moved.

The strain in Mallory's expression and voice alike were all too apparent despite her efforts to maintain that facade of hers.  Every noble lady knew how to wear a smile like a mask for the sake of societal demands, but hers was showing cracks from what she kept held back.

"Y-yes, I think so.  Thank you, Mister Maldhon, that's very kind of you." she gingerly sidestepped Dannika enough to take a seat at one of the creaky barstools itself and sank onto it as if her cloak suddenly weighed enough to drag her down.

"What did you mean when you spoke of 'salvaging' one of the dead Trolls?"

It took a moment for the addled noble to respond, as if Rhydd's question needed time to travel from her ears to her brain.  Such conversation was grim business, but a diversion was a diversion and she was in dire need of one just then.  "Trolls are... Trolls of any variety are steeped in powerful magics by nature.  The Weave saturates them inside and out." She echoed the dry words of lessons past like a mantra to keep her thoughts busy.  It was entirely likely Dannika would recognize that the noble directly quoted a particularly prominent tome on the subject of the preternatural supernatural.  "Few other creatures are so abundantly and uniquely imbued; as such, their bodies are especially precious as a medium for the creation of magical potions and items.  A single Troll, let alone an Ice Troll, is a veritable king's ransom of arcane resources for those who know how to properly collect them.  Much as one might break apart a deer for its pelt, bones, and meat.  Naerth didn't seem to realize the Trolls were of any value of at all until I told him so, but the proceeds of one's processing would go a long way to helping Targos' financial woes."  She gestured vaguely to the group at large.  "One for us, one for Targos.  Profit born of blood is still profit."  A grim notion indeed, but at least she didn't seem intent on cutting the others out of their share of its value.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Fri 09 July 2021.

Dannika nodded along. "Even a single fingernail can catch a considerable price if you can find the right buyer, and skilled alchemists make great use of practically anything from a Troll. Certain potions of healing are made with a Troll base, though that particular brew ends up quite thick and nasty." she tacked onto Mallory's explanation. "I will admit I'm somewhat unsure of what the parts of an Ice Troll can be used for."

For Mallory, the words faded to the background as Astre tapped into her mind – Moyrah was in danger.

“Not at all. Though I did know a particularly small tiefling that was obsessed with flying. Kept asking me to throw her as far as I could.” She smirked at that particular memory. It had always been hard to say no to such boundless enthusiasm. “No, I can grant you something of my sight for a time. Few enough can see through the night as well as I can.” She shrugged then, letting the woman decide if she would or not. Likely eventually, but it was hard to say.

Once they were back in the Inn, the goliath located her stool and sat down, pulling her pack off as well. From there, she pulled the stone from a pouch and rolled it through  her hands thoughtfully. Sometimes she forgot how much she disliked towns. Maybe not the towns. Just specific people.

Earlier

"I daresay my own visions give me quite enough trouble as it is without adding more onto the pile." Mallory muttered sardonically and hugged her cloak closer about herself to fend off the cold.

---

"You can make an absolute, literal disaster with their hearts, that's for certain.  I made sure to warn Naerth of improper handling lest they unwittingly cause... cause a..." Mallory's words trailed off as, once more, her brow furrowed and gaze turned distant as if something took her attention.  Several times by then the others had seen the Diviner's eyes go black with the unnatural hyper-dilation of her pupils that expanded beyond physical limits to total darkness.  Every time it had happened thus far, no good had come of it for Mallory either.

In that moment, she saw the flames, heard Moyrah's cry.  She blinked sharply as, all at once, her eyes contracted back to normal with a jarring physical recoil like she'd been struck.  "Miss Moyrah!  She's in danger!"  The stool she'd been on clattered noisily to the floor as she jolted at once to her feet and, without another moment spared to explain further, immediately turned and charged back out into the frozen day.

In the snowy skies, meanwhile, Astre pulled a wide arc overhead; first to line up with his partner as she hurried along below, then to overtake her entirely with a flap that sped him along swiftly toward Moyrah's hut.

---

Mallory and Astre both are going to be at a Full Dash the whole way, so he'll get there before she does for the sake of keeping her updated on what's awaiting them.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:39, Fri 09 July 2021.

Rhydd looked surprised when Lady Mallory explained how valuable dead Trolls were -- well, to the right people, any way. He knew enough to make sure that their bodies were well and truly burned to a crisp, but seemingly, to some people's way of thinking, it sounded like that would be considered to be a terrible waste.

~~Magickers,~~ he thought to himself.~~What an odd lot. Helpful in some instances, but still . . .~~

His thoughts were interrupted by the wizardess's exclamation that Moyrah was in danger, whereupon the noblewoman rushed out the door.

The huntsman's first thoughts were ~~Damn, I wonder what the Frost Maiden has stirred up this time? I hope that it's not more Trolls -- even if they are walking bags of golders, apparently.~~

Luckily Rhydd had not been inside long enough to take off his heavy bearskin coat. It took only a moment for him to snatch up his bow from where he had leaned it against a wall of the common room, and rush out the door behind Mallory . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 17:19, Sat 10 July 2021.

"What, again? But I'm barely even tipsy ye-" Torgrim found himself complaining to no one, with the witch and the huntsman already gone. He turned back to his conversational partner with a look of exasperated acceptance.

"Sigh... Once more into the fray, it would seem. May I borrow that last bottle of yours?"

OOC: Torgrim will dash after the others.

Dannika sat with a quizzical look on her face. "Er . . . certainly," she said and fished out the vial of acid from her infinitely spacious satchel to hand to Torgrim.

Hlin did not bother to get out of her chair. Thorben, on the other hand, did follow behind Torgrim, though he appeared to not know what was going on either.

Notice: The events below follow from msg #39 in Moyrah's Home.

---

It was nearing nightfall. Dannika had once again submerged herself in books and papers, this time more appropriately on the table and not in front of the fireplace. She was nibbling on the end of her pen, not even registering that the door opened to the chilly winds once more. Hlin had fallen fast asleep and was snoring loudly in her rocking chair, while Ethen swept the already immaculate floor. Immaculate, except for a particularly big and sprightly rat. Ethen attempted to bat it away, but was invariably thwarted. It dashed up on a stool and the frail woman lost her footing on the rug and tumbled to the floorboard.

"Goodness!" The Half-Elven scholar piped as she stood abruptly, noticing the recent arrivals and hesitating but for a moment. Hlin awakened, not to the fall, but to Dannika's exclamation.

All the while the rat dashed around the establishment for a victory lap.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:38, Tue 03 Aug 2021.

In reply to DM Bears (msg # 31):

Rhydd had just stepped into the room when Ethen took her tumble. He had pushed the hood of his heavy bearskin winter jacket back fron his head and and leaned his bow against a side wall, but nothing else.

He quickly moved to Ethen's side and knelt down. "Are you hurt?" he asked the frail woman. He had heard of people with Ethen's spare frame being described as having "thin bones", and hoped that the woman had not injured herself seriously.

The lot of them surely looked to be in quite a state returning from their relatively short jaunt back into the night.  In-tow with Moyrah, all of them smelling of smoke and ash, Mallory once again having taken on such a bitter expression.  She lingered at Moyrah's side the whole way out of concern for the poor woman; to be attacked like that was a horrid ordeal, enough that Mallory's sympathies overwhelmed even her own anguish from the events of the day.

Astre, meanwhile, immediately perked up at the sight of the rat that flouted itself about the inn.  He left Mallory in a brief stagger as he flared up his wings from his spot atop her shoulders and leaped away, using his companion for a springboard to immediately give chase.

"Honestly... to think that this awful day isn't even over yet." the noblewoman seemed far less energetic than her feline friend in the moment.  A substantial part of her just wanted to crawl into a bottle, then a bed, and ignore the world... but there was still work to be done that evening, given Arkemos' lingering presence in town.

---

Astre's not even going to try and fight kitty instincts this time, so it's time for another battle!  Cat vs. Rat: Round 2!

As Torgrim entered, he found a message in the powder snow that blew inside and settled just on the doorstep. 'Thank you.' It was quickly brushed away.

Ethen took Rhydd's hand to steady herself, "I am alright. Just a light tumble is all." She patted her apron and shuffled along. "I should prepare drink and food. Have any of you eaten?" Hlin climbed out of her chair to help her. It didn't matter if Ethen wanted help or not, help she would be getting.

Dannika had sat down to once more chew on her pen. Someone had gotten to the innkeeper's aid ahead of her, and she didn't wish to clutter the situation. When Astre launched off Mallory, spreading his winds and unleashing a torrent of gust upon her notes, she was startled again and scrambled to keep erring papers pinned. The rat seemed to immediately realize that this was no longer a mere game and raced for the cover of furniture. Classic mistake.

"I would agree with you, Miss Mallory," Dannika remarked once she'd gotten her notes back in order. "Tomorrow we'll be heading for Bryn Shander, which I've gathered is a far more accommodating town." She thought for a second and realized what she just said could be taken as a slight. "Oh, that's not to speak of you, Lady Ethen! My stay has been most pleasant." She leaned in closer to Mallory. "I was referring more to our research. I've heard tell of a library in Bryn Shander and would very much like to have a gander at its collection. There's not much in the way of books around these parts, from what I understand. There was a small shop near the gates that I visited earlier today, but they carried nothing of the sort I'm after. Oh, and there's this Gnome, allegedly, who might know more about the curse, and I'd wager he could know a thing or two about Chwingas as well."

---

For the sake of the story beat I don't find it necessary to have Astre and the rat roll again.

Hobbling into the inn, step by step, slowly, leaning on her harpoon, with Mallory at her side, Moyrah felt every minute spent fighting, juping, sailing, in her sore muscles. After the day left behind, Moyrah would have gladly headed to her own bed, heated up by the warm hearth nearby, but the gratefulness that she felt toward her saviors overpowered the fatigue and it simply couldn't permit her to just retreat.

"I think I owe you all a round..." she addressed the group. "...That is the least I could do". Seeing everyone branching towards their own acquaintances, Moyrah headed to the bar to grab a mug for herself. Once out of sight, she allowed herself to show the full extent of her tiredness. With her full weight divided between both of her elbows, leaning onto the wooden surface, she asked the barkeep with a huff. "Please... a mug of ale, or something else more refreshing, if you have..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Miss Moyrah.  You've been through an ordeal; let me pay for your drink and room." Mallory prompted with a reassuring squeeze to Moyrah's shoulder as she hunched in over the bar, and a pointed look over at Ethen to make sure she heard as well.  Assuming there even was another room to spare.

"Tomorrow we'll be heading for Bryn Shander, which I've gathered is a far more accommodating town."

"Assuming Niels can actually get us there without bumbling us into the Evermoors.  Do you happen to know what hour we'll be leaving?" To be away from Targos was a blessing as far as Mallory was concerned.  Her gaze settled momentarily on Moyrah's broad back; would she take the opportunity and leave Targos behind herself, she wondered?  It may have been a truly awful place for her, especially now, but it was still her home and history alike.  Then there was still the matter of Kaltro to hunt down as well... but depending on what could be learned from Arkemos later that evening, there may very well have been no reason at all for the murderer to linger.  It was more likely he'd move on to other parts of the Ten-Towns in his grim pursuit, whatever the cause that drove him was.

Dannika's dedication to her own pursuits, on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air in spite of the heavy haze that had settled on the noblewoman's mood.  She found herself quite grateful for such a simple boon and afforded her studious new friend a half-hearted, yet sincere, smile.  "There's been little opportunity to search from what we've been up to, I'm afraid, though the lantern yielded no results either.  I don't suppose you've tried music again?  No creature lives that is not fond of some lure, after all."

It could have been the weight of the day's unfortunate events or the unexpected support from Mallory, that lured out a single tear out of Moyrah's eye. Clumsily, she tried hiding it from others, but from Mallory's vantage point, there was no hiding. "Th..thank you, Mallory, you are the most considerate from the day I met you....Wh..why?". Stranger's kindness was a foreign concept to Moyrah, despite Mallory's and the group's continuous outpour of support and good intentions. "I am in your debt, for everything that you have done, and if you need me, know that you can count on me.".

Wiping the tear off her cheek, she turned back to the barkeep, slowly managing to regain her composure and emotional stability, it will be easier either way with a drink in front of her. Upon hearing Mallory's suggestion to the kooky character, Moyrah gently pulled on Mallory's cloak. "Sorry to interrupt miss. If you are in need of a musician, I could gladly help you out... I have been playing flute pretty much ever since I was born." Moyrah hoped that she hadn't come across as too eager by offering her help so forward and so quickly.

---

A room and a meal will amount to 2 gold pieces. Since Naerth isn't here right now, you have to assume it has to come out of your pockets.

---

"There's been little opportunity to search from what we've been up to, I'm afraid, though the lantern yielded no results either.  I don't suppose you've tried music again?  No creature lives that is not fond of some lure, after all."

"It is no wonder, really – Chwingas typically shy large settlements," Dannika explained. "And when they do occasionally visit, it's only at the outskirts. I took a brief stroll along the perimeter when browsing for instruments and books, but my own lantern remained red. I hope it will be easier with music. Your tutelage would be much appreciated, Miss Moyrah, as would Master Torgrim's. Though I am afraid I won't be around to take you up on your offers, as I am departing tomorrow. At precisely what hour I am unsure. We should perhaps inquire Miss Alma."

Soon, after Ethen had served everyone drinks, the scent of seared haddock wafted in the inn's warm air as Hlin set the table. The fish was soon served with herb butter sauce, a side of almond potatoes, rutabaga puree, and steamed asparagus. A simple yet nutritious meal, executed to a level of perfection rivaling even taverns of the upper echelons in Waterdeep or Neverwinter. And even then, Ethen was no Vegord.

---

Later, when the table was cleared and dishes were cleaned, Naerth swung by. "Good evening," he said, removing his gloves near the entrance. "It appears I missed supper." And without further ado, while removing his coat, he set five full, clinking bags of coin on the table. "Payment for the job. This one," he pointed to one slightly larger, though not by much, "contains Moyrah's share. The rest are a hundred each, as agreed upon. Feel free to count it.* I will be retiring early." He hung his coat by the entrance, went for the stairs, and lingered for a second. "I have heard tell of the recent happenings – I am sorry for what you had to endure, Miss Moyrah. The truth will come to light and justice will be dealt. You have my word."

Before he continued upstairs he made sure to establish eye contact with Mallory. "I wish you all a pleasant rest-of-your-evening."

---

*If you do decide to count it, you will see that they contain precisely what Naerth says; four bags of one hundred, one of a-hundred-and-fifty.

In universe, the time would now be somewhere between 10:30 and 11 PM.

At Ethen's urging for payment up front, Mallory shuffled aside a moment so as to put her back to the rest of the gathered group.  It was only for Ethen and anyone curious enough to sneak a gaze past her side to see the well-dressed noblewoman dig out a distressingly light purse from within her breast pocket and turn it out into her palm.  A mere three gold pieces clattered free and, with a defeated sigh of quiet humiliation, she handed two over.  But when she turned back around that tired smile was back in place as much as it could be; a proper, well-practiced facade that came as second nature to anyone of status.

"Th..thank you, Mallory, you are the most considerate from the day I met you....Wh..why?"

The genuine confusion Moyrah bore over such simple gestures of magnanimity made Mallory's heart ache, in all honesty.  She wasn't so naive to the world to think that the sort of struggles Moyrah endured were rare, but that didn't change the fact that she dearly wished otherwise.  The young woman offered a pained sigh and a shake of her head.

"My family have raised ourselves firmly in the concept of 'noblesse oblige'; that it is the moral duty of those with power to use it responsibly, and for the betterment of those without."  An uncommon sentiment among most nobles in those days, perhaps.  But for all the loftiness of that claim, Mallory shrugged and leaned a bit closer to Moyrah as if to divulge a secret.  Albeit without bothering to lower her voice one bit.  "While I certainly agree, my personal say on the matter is different.  I believe one needs no reason to be kind.  Indeed, kindness that rests conditional on profit or convenience rings hollow."

A gentle pat and squeeze was offered to Moyrah's arm before, without apparent reason, Mallory lifted her hand out a ways over the bar without bothering to look.  Not but a moment later Astre bounded up from behind the counter precisely in position for her outstretched hand to rest affectionately atop his head.  The Tressym seemed especially pleased with himself given his puffed-up posture and the defeated rat that hung in his jaws.  "You owe me nothing, Miss Moyrah.  Though it was thanks to this rapscallion that we arrived in so timely a manner.  He was terribly worried over you and came yowling for us when he noticed the flames."

"Mmrrp." Astre offered, albeit mumbled about his mouthful.  He laid the rat down before Moyrah as an apparent gift... intelligent as he might've been, he was still a cat.

---

Dinner was a much-needed blessing, perhaps more so than the several glasses of wine Mallory indulged in.  Though that was not to say she didn't appreciate the drinks themselves either.  When the chance finally arrived she drank as if she were in a race to the bottom of her glass and the tension that lingered in her frame only tapered away after her third in short order.  Though as inebriation settled on her, it was all to clear from her lack of joviality that drink was not for the sake of fun.  From time to time Astre would fix her with a pointed, disapproving glower, but she paid no heed to his judgmental gaze.

Naerth's arrival and prompt distribution of payment throughout earned a passing, grateful nod.  She wasn't so gauche as to count the coin on the spot and simply tucked her portion of coin away into her breast pocket, albeit with a moment spent to grip it with a furtive squeeze as if she feared it might fly away from her.

"Rest well, Speaker, and thank you for your hard work." she remained as steadfastly gracious as ever while she held Naerth's gaze in parting.

Truth be told, Rhydd was rather surprised when Naerth showed up with payment for the Lake Monster matter. The archer had anticipated that the Speaker would drag his feet when it came to paying for the group's efforts, and that it would be some time before any of the party saw any substantial amount of coin for their efforts.

Rhydd nodded his acknowledgement of the debt being paid, but made no immediate effort to claim his coin pouch. Instead, he made his way over to Hlin. "How are you feeling?" he asked the Dwarven warrior quietly.

He did not want to embarrass the proud Dwarf, but he knew from experience that sometimes well after a fight had ended, battle-wounds could fester and become infected with rotten flesh. Although he did not know it for a fact, he suspected that wounds inflicted by Trolls might be even more likely to be troublesome in this manner.

Farwalker once again took some time to sit outside and slowly carve away at a piece of bone, eventually drilling a hole in the piece and hanging it from a thong, like the many beads and carvings hanging from her hair and clothes. It wasn’t quite as large as the representation of Dannika, but that’s what made the details of it all the more impressive. And it would colour nicely with age, which was important. She’d used the last of her gemstones a while back, and would have to get more at some point. An issue for a later time.

Tucking the carving away for the moment, she headed inside to eat with the rest of the group, as quietly and contemplatively as she usually was while eating. Though she did supplement the meal with some of her own food. She had to eat a bit more, which was why she always carried far more food than most would consider.

She stared at the coin pouch thoughtfully for a long moment before taking it. If nothing else, she’d be able to get more tools. For not she just tucked it down her tunic. Seemed the safest place. Once the speaker was gone, she pulled the small barrel from her bag and set it on the table. “Would anyone care for a drink? I will warn that it is quite strong. But smooth. Very smooth.”

Hlin sighed. She hadn't touched too much of her food, and had certainly tried to mask her pain as she both aided Ethen and sat to ate. "Éin Dverg klagr itj. A Dwarf never complains," she answered Rhydd. She realized now, as she rigged herself with her pipe again, that she hadn't fooled the huntsman's sharp eyes. "Bollocks to that," she scoffed. "I hurt all over. Though the pipeweed helps dull the aching."

During his hunt, Astre had noticed a couple of dead rats tucked away in the corners of the inn, by saucers containing half-nibbled poison.

“Would anyone care for a drink? I will warn that it is quite strong. But smooth. Very smooth.”

"I've been wondering what was in that barrel of yours,” Hlin raised both eyebrow and voice as a ring of smoke billowed in front of her. "I've drank Goliath brew once before, near Skytower Shelter – now that was a night to remember. When you don't try to chop each others' heads off, Goliaths can be quite an endearing folk! Though tonight my stomach urges I abstain."

"I'll have a taste, if that's alright," Dannika chimed in. Over these last few days, Dannika had indulged in nothing stronger than Ethen's herbal tea, but seemed eager to sample some Goliath culture first-hand. " . . . just a small sip, thank you."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:15, Sat 07 Aug 2021.

The offer of a stronger drink put a moment of visible war in Mallory's dark eyes.  Her hand had already lifted to offer her recently emptied glass over before Farwalker had even finished describing her brew, yet there was something else that came to her mind that seemed to give her pause.  She briefly bounced her gaze between the small keg, to Astre, then up at the stairs where Naerth had vanished earlier, and then to the door in quick succession... normally she was a fair deal more subtle than that, but it seemed the booze she'd already downed dulled her wits some.

"Just a snifter, indeed.  Thank you, Farwalker."  she at least conceded that much.  Like Dannika, there was a genuine bit of curiosity in her.  She'd never tried Goliath moonshine before and it was a story to tell, if nothing else.  A potential investment opportunity otherwise if it was any good.

There seemed to be other indulgences on the noblewoman's mind as well, however, as let her gaze rest over on Hlin and the wreathe of smoke that surrounded her like a fog bank.  "Pardon, grandmother, but would you happen to have any extra tobacco you'd be willing to part with?  I'd readily buy it off you, if so."  At the late hour it was unlikely whatever general store Targos had would still be open, she figured, so a little second-hand bartering was in order.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:10, Fri 06 Aug 2021.

“Pardon, grandmother, but would you happen to have any extra tobacco you would be willing to part with? I’d readily buy it off you, if so.”

“No,” came the reply.

There was some childish part of Mallory that was sorely tempted to press 'No, you don't have any?' or 'No, you won't sell it?' at Hlin's abrupt manner, though she stifled it immediately.  Gruff as she was, she'd forged right into combat earlier; there was no reason to hassle her.  Instead Mallory just gave a faint huff through her nostrils and let the matter go.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:12, Fri 06 Aug 2021.

"Who knows what the fates may bring? Maybe the future days bring us together elsewhere and we can search for these little things that you are looking for. If we don't see each other tomorrow, know that I wish you safe travels." The whiff of beautifully arranged dishes that were served nearby, was enough to distract her from any ongoing conversation "Now if you don't mind, I will be making my way to the table, I am starving." Even though many would consider the meal as simple, in Moyrah's eyes, and to what her taste buds were accustomed to, this was a majestic feast. The ability to choose, alone, was something her humble fish-stew couldn't compare to.


"So this is who I owe my thanks to!?" Endeared, Moyrah asked Mallory rhetorically. Grabbing a stalk of steam asparagus from a plate nearby, she began wiggling the vegetable in front of the feline's face. "I have a gift for you as well". Fun and games were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the town speaker. Taking into consideration how their previous meeting ended up, Moyrah didn't have high hopes for this latest run-in, but she was pleasantly surprised by his demeanor. "Thank you Mr. town speaker, I hope it truly does."



"I will settle for this, for now, but thank you really for everything." Moyrah raised her mug in Farwalker's direction, as a show of gratitude. "Who knows what would have hapenned if you all hadn't arrived."