"... You really cleared it by yourselves? Truly?"
The first thing that happened after the guards left was a unanimous agreement for Creed and I to momentarily split. Creed left to get a new space pouch, as the previous one ripped during the battle, and I stayed to make sure our loot wouldn't sprout legs and wander off. Several times I fended off a stray guard, and nocked out a few who didn't get the message, until finally Creed returned, a bag at his side. We stuffed if full of gems, silver, copper, some books, and for evidence a few heads, and exited the dingy dungeon to a bright midday sun.
Then we headed to the library to get some political help.
"Yes," I replied to Üorénén, "but we may have used Goldwing's name in the process."
"I see," he said. "Well, I'll be sure that nothing happens to you two. Seeing as it was such an important matter, I'm sure Sbandor will be willing to disregard such a transgression. At least,this time. Possibly. I'll make sure to convince him." He sighed, "As much as it saddens me to admit, but there are many politics involved in Duntborn, and considerations which shouldn't even be given an afterthought are oftentimes brought up as a forefront in discussion."
We thanked him and left, exiting whatever he resided in and then exiting the library.
Then we went on a shopping spree until it was almost dark. We found an inn, where we drank and ate and planned to sleep in. It was then I learned that Creed was a lightweight and after he regaled the song of The Daring consecutively twenty three times well into the night, and probably early morning, he managed to calm down enough to step off the table and run into the street, replaying for the twenty fourth time with the whole crowd behind him, and more joining in. Leading a group of well over five hundred through the streets in the middle of the night, singing the same song over, and over, and over.
...
I seriously need to sleep.
