The Midnight Sun

Vigil would take his leave, going back downstairs. He'd look around to see if Davous was here.

Vigil would most easily notice Davous sitting casually at a table, speaking with what appeared to be a mercenary.

Ildesias entered the establishment flanked by two guards, who seemed to be there solely so anyone who happened to be working on the main floor could see that his visit was of an official nature and not one of pleasure. "Am I correct in assuming that some of Isra's acting ministers are here?" He would ask anyone who was on duty. "If possible, I would like you to fetch them for me. There are things that need to be discussed."

He would stand by the bar patiently until someone answered him or did as he asked; leaning onto the counter with one of his arms and examining the drinks on selection.

“No, you’re not,” she denies emphatically. “The word ‘burden’ carries negative implications that will never apply to you. I don’t mind caring for you - I would do it each day, happily, if that were necessary.”

“You are not at fault for this. Relax, allow me to assess any potential injuries.”

Naoki leans over and reaches into the top drawer of her bedside table with her unoccupied hand. She rummages around in the drawer, sliding books, loose pieces of parchment, and numerous small trinkets aside to obtain the object she seeks: a wide strip of black velvet, fastened on both ends to a string. A sleep mask, a blindfold; Naoki would often wear it to block out light and sleep more easily.

“I am concerned that you may have a concussion. I am going to put this over your eyes for a moment, and then check to see if your eyes are dilating properly.”

With that said, Naoki leans over, and slides the mask down over the top of Kate’s head, positioning the band of fabric to rest over her eyes. With the blindfold properly in place, Kate may find it hard to see through the opaque black fabric. And, presuming that she didn’t suffer any sort of brain injury, her pupils would widen, attempting to adjust for the suddenly lowered light levels.

Madame Naoki seats herself on the edge of the bed, and grasps Kate’s hand again. The book had confirmed her recollections: the reason one falls unconscious in a situation such as this is due to irregular fluctuations in their heart rhythm, brought about by their stress, violent displeasure, or what have you. She figured that it would be prudent to monitor Kate’s pulse, to ensure such irregularities have ceased. As such, she rests two fingers from her other hand on Kate’s wrist as she sits for another precise minute, counting pulses.

“Your heart rate is fine. I’m going to check your eyes, now.”

She slides the blindfold up, to rest on Kate’s forehead. Naoki leans forward, bringing her face down to hover just a handful of short centimeters from Kate’s own, and stares intently into Kate’s amber eyes, watching the pupil shrink as more light enters the aperture. The reaction seems in line with the norm, as stated by her book.

However, Naoki finds herself lost in those amber globes, her own pupils widening, a response that has nothing to do with the light. She stares for several seconds longer than is necessary to accurately assess the functionality of Kate’s pupillary response.

After a few moments, Naoki reluctantly tears herself away, pulling back to sit upright on the edge of the bed.

“Your eyes are dilating properly, I believe. How do you feel? Do you remember hitting your head?”

Vigil would approach the table Davous and Cyronin were seated and introduce himself. "My apologies for interrupting. I'm looking for a Davous, would you be he?"

"I'm in need of the expertise of a demonologist. I've been told you're the one to look for. I will offer recompense for your work." Vigil would look over to see Ildesias arrive, he'd turn back to Davous. "Sorry, I must cut this short. Could we meet again to talk about what I need of you?"

After receiving Davous' answer he'd bow and walk over to Ildesias. "Lord Ildesias. We've never met, I am Vigil and am filling in while Andraste is gone."

Davous extended his hand to Cyronin, but was abruptly interrupted by Vigil. After their exchange was over, Davous returned his attention to Cyronin, and shook hands with the ex-soldier. "A deal it is, then! This bar will never see a better staff." Davous liked the man already. He was withdrawn, perhaps, and smelled a bit of alcohol, but there was clearly much left of a stronger warrior.

At last. At long, happy last.

It had been days, days filled with long treks down narrow paths through wild lands, with little food, no drink, and barely any shelter, but Reiea had arrived. The Midnight Sun: home to the miracle worker who would tell her where her lost love had gone.

I'm so excited! conscious squealed. And so nervous. I've got to look my best, got to act perfectly. I can't slip this up.

You'll be fine, reassured conscience. Just go in there and tell him the truth. You'll get what you need to find him, and then we'll be on our way without a hitch.

Right.

Reiea entered the Midnight Sun and almost staggered back out the door. It's so... so full. So crowded! conscious complained. How will I ever find who I'm looking for! Reiea's eyes flitted from person to person: an old man, taking a cautious sip of Dragon's Roar; a dashing young lad in sailor's garb, probably on leave from the docks; a bat-winged, cloaked individual speaking with a swordsman; a table that was host to a younger fellow passed out and sick from Strangling Willow Absinthe, a young lady poking the crown of his head, and a middle-aged soldier of Isra carving through a Black Mountain. He could be any one of them!

Well, reasoned conscience, he's a pretty well-known guy, to have his story get to Asgeir. Maybe just ask the guy at the bar.

Kevin was regarded by Reiea. He seemed amiable enough, and in any case, maybe some Heartbreak would be ironic enough to drown her mood. She approached the bar and quickly examined the menu for the cheapest dishes that were not... Curd. When the barkeep got around to her, she requested, "Could I have a Black Mountain and Heartbreak, please?"

Kevin beams his signature smile. "But of course, young lady! Coming right up."

He expertly mixes the drink, and places the ruby red glass of temptation in front of her before bustling off nearby to attend to other patrons.

Her meal arrives several minutes later - thick slices of succulent roast chicken, bathed in brown gravy, a piping-hot half loaf of brown bread, and generous portions of perfectly-cooked vegetables.

Reiea grinned back in gratitude. "Thank you!"

Conscience and conscious declared a ceasefire as she dug into the hot meal and quenched her thirst, washing it all down with the reddish drink. Unfortunately, her Varan warrior life had no taught her very many table manners, and those she were taught, she forgot amid the furious consumption. She was famished.

In keeping with her personal tradition, the first place the chicken went was onto a slice of the bread, preceding a modest complement of vegetables. She then took the gravy-soaked concoction and bit into it, savoring every moment. A real meal. A hot meal. Meat, gravy, vegetables, bread, and some kind of strong alcohol. It was all so good, conscience and conscious agreed.

Feeling selfish inside, Reiea tried to flag down Kevin again. When/if he arrived, she asked him, "I am looking for someone who can find people? Who should I talk to?"