Ellia concentrated her entire being on her duty. The door before which she stood guard imprisoned twenty-four of the kingdom’s most burdensome rebels. If any sound above a snore was heard through the great bronze barrier, Ellia would alert the higher guardians. She was trained merely as an interloper, absorbing the natural music of the darkness, from harmony to melody, soprano to bass. Her hearing was her most prized possession, far more important than her other features, and far more rare. Ellia counted her blessings. And she did her job well: More than once, an escape plot would have been put to action had the prisoners’ night-time meetings not been overheard.

One moment passed, followed by another, and still more distantly followed by another. A single tendril of hair escaped from the hold of the leather ribbon wound around Ellia’s head, and fell across her face. Lazily, it slipped from her forehead to her nose to her mouth, coming to rest gently against her jawbone. She did not stir, allowing nothing to distract her. Her duty was to the watch, not to vanity.

Adir reached across the table to pick up the last of the dirty mugs. A few of his customers had gotten rowdy last night, leaving a tidal wave of broken glass and furniture in their wake. He was only getting around to cleaning up the more routine mess now.

It was a cartwright who had caused the ruckus and sparked the fist fight. After a few drinks, the man had begun to talk all too loudly about the aches and pains in his back. From there, it only took another drink to trigger his long stories about an unhappy marriage and failing business. His words must have hit a nearby clergyman quite badly. A few shouted slurs were enough to call the entire room's attention to them: The two men were wrestling their way through the tavern before Adir could separate them, crashing into tables and fellow patrons all the while. It took three servers and a broken nose before they could finally be thrown out on the street.

Adir placed the mugs behind the bar counter, leaving them to be cleaned by the steward later on. He grabbed a threadbare rag from the nearby shelf and carefully wiped down the bar, making it gleam. Tonight would be sure to bring about good company. Everyone was interested in the fight and would wish to hear the story again and again. If Adir played his cards right, perhaps he'd hear some other stories in return.

Mya's footsteps echoed against stone. She knew it was late, but she wasn't in the mood for sleep. And quite frankly, she didn't care if the castle's prisoners were sleeping, they were more prone to slip ups when they were tired. It was always easier to get information out of them.
Mya was dressed in her usual hooded cloak, but her hood was down, and her hair pulled up into a pony tail by a simple band. She approached the guard, and stopped a few feet away.
"I would like to speak to my father, Leonard Grace. I have some questions for him regarding the rebellion." Mya had been down to the dungeons and spoken with her father before, and with some of the other prisoners. But it was the first time she'd been down so late, and she had never spoken to this particular guard before. But, she knew the girl's name. Barely a moment passed before Mya felt a little bad; she'd probably come across as rather cold and impolite.
"I'm sorry... Ellia, isn't it? How are you?"

Ellia's eyes glided up and down this new visitor, taking in what little bit of appearances she could see in the dungeon's dank lighting. The girl looked familiar in a mundane sort of way. She was a face that had obviously appeared often around the castle, but there had never been a reason to learn her name before. She was just another young girl to keep in line.

"Yes, it's Ellia," she replied after a moment. "Do you have permission to be down here now? I don't get, well, visitors very often at this time of night." Ellia stood her ground before the doorway. She rarely saw anyone during her watches, which was all the more reason to follow the proper procedure for allowing fellow guards into the imprisoned room. This young girl would not be getting by her without legitimate permission.

Mya couldn't help but grin a little once Ellia had spoken. So many guards, especially the night ones, got lazy. Many of them barely looked at her when she passed, and it bugged her. These were the people meant to be protecting their king. She knew from experience that rebels could get inside the castle; her father had been one. They needed more guards like Ellia, ones who followed procedure.

"Well, I suppose you don't get many visitors because everyone is sleeping. My name is Mya Grace, I'm the king's... public liason I suppose you could say. I have strict orders from King's advisors to root out rebels and any information pertaining to the rebellion, by any means necessary... I believe Leonard Grace has some information about rebels within the city." She smiled wrily. She had been practicing at acting a little more authoritative (not that she had any authority over Ellia) and "professional." Most of the guards should have known about her, but she didn't trust the lines of communication through the ranks. People forget things, after all. And it wasn't like her position had been publicly announced. That would just be stupid.

The name rung a faint bell in Ellia's mind, enough to reassure her that Mya had indeed been trained with the castle. Her self-proclaimed title of "public liason" sounded questionable, but Ellia didn't know anything about the king's advisory board anyway. Maybe a new position had been announced, maybe the girl was making it up, maybe cows had begun to fly in the sky - It didn't matter much here in the dungeons. Ellia knew that she had the only key to the prison and that's all that actually mattered in the end. If this girl wanted to go inside, it was no skin off her back.

"Fine," she responded after some thought. "Go in if you must. They're all sleeping right now, so you have your work cut out for you. I'll lock the door behind you, just say the word when you need to get out again."

Still watching Mya, Ellia drew out the key that hung from her belt loops. She slightly turned in order to fit it into the door, fully aware of the vast metal network that clicked through the walls as she opened the lock. I can hear everything that happens in there anyway, she thought. The rebels best not take advantage of this.

Somewhere in the perfect trifecta between the castle, city and farmlands sat the Arena. It belonged to none of the three places, so it in effect belonged to all three of them.

The structure was quite large - large enough to host a small several-thousands of spectators, at least - and had a wide, roughly circular performance area of packed dirt covered by enough sand to soften it. It was quite old and was one of the first major structures built in Helidor and kept well-maintained by order of the king. The last fifty years or so had seen wooden wall partitions built up at the top of the building so that canvas tents could be erected to shade much of the seating areas and protect it from light rain.

The Arena had long been used for mass entertainments, speeches, and religious ceremonies of a certain sort. Last week it had been the site of a historical play about one of the first kings of Helidor. Tonight (and every night when it suited the arena's schedule, his own schedule, and the weather), it served for King Seine's riding practice.

As dusk fell, King Seine mounted his favorite horse (a type called a 'silver dapple bay', though his was mostly brown with a white mane and black stockings and muzzle), ensured that the half dozen or so servants with torches were ready, and road on to the Arena. (If there were other officials deemed necessary, he wouldn't have bothered to wait for them as they would have been able to catch up easily at the pace he was riding.)

He would be quiet, unless spoken to, and quieter than usual on the way to the Arena. His patient Strider (the horse's name, of course) walking with one of the torch-bearers to the center of the Arena while the others made their way around to tall torches placed along the inner ring of the Arena and lit those. Horses didn't see well enough at night to be careless about it.

Mya smiled, though the smile wasn't as warm as her usual. She looked upon interviewing her father with dread, though no one was forcing her to. She knew that he had information she needed, and so swallowed her emotions and would deal with it.

"Thank you Ellia." Mya said, before entering the room. She immediately found her father, and quietly approached him. He was propped against the wall, and she nudged his leg with her foot. When he didn't move, she resorted to less gentle tactics, kicking him in the knee. He awoke, but he was groggy. She got to work.

Half an hour later, Mya was satisfied. She had gotten the name of a popular tavern, where all sorts of gossip flourished. She had no doubt that she could root out some information there. Her father was staring at her with sad eyes, which she did her best to ignore. He felt betrayed by her, and she felt the same of him. He had done this to himself, by thinking of rebelling. It wasn't her fault. At least, that's what she told herself...

"I'd like to leave now, please." Mya said to Ellia quietly through the door. She'd managed to get the information she was after without waking up too many of the imprisoned rebels.

It was Vinelle's duty tonight to join the king's escort to his riding practice. And so she and a few other of her fellow guardsmen rode along with the small group, staying out of the circle of light that the servant's torches threw, but always within sight of the entourage. Vin herself had nudged her prized mount, Deyishene, off into the grass beside the road in the space between "behind" and "next to" the king himself where she had a good view of him and his surroundings.

Her vision, however, was caught by the rustle of movement ahead of her, and her eyes locked on an unfortunate rabbit that was nosing around in the brush away from the road. Whatever it was doing, it was oblivious to the party's passing, and Vin didn't give it the chance to notice. In one fluid motion, her bow was raised and an arrow drawn and subsequently let loose, and the rabbit fell with hardly a squeak.

"Show off," one of her companions muttered amicably, and Vin grinned back over her shoulder at him as she led Deyishene toward her fallen prey.

"Naturally," she agreed, "But the cook loves me for it." She leaned down over Deyishene's side and swept the rabbit up into her grasp by the end of the arrow that was sticking upright in it. Pulling the arrow free, she dropped the rabbit down into a saddle bag to be delivered to the kitchens upon their return.

They were approaching the arena, and so Vin directed her attention back to the king and his torch-wielding entourage. As they entered the structure, she broke off and began heading towards her usual path of making slow rounds outside the arena looking for snoopers. But her commander called her name to stop her, his eyes darting around at the night suspiciously. "I think tonight I'll have you stay inside," he growled in his low voice. "Something about tonight doesn't feel right, so I'd prefer we have good eyes on His Majesty."

Nodding her understanding, she nudged Deyishene around and into the arena. He snorted his annoyance at changing the routine, and she just patted him on the back of the neck. The commander usually had good instincts, but he was occasionally wrong. She hoped tonight he was just being overly cautious. Why would anyone want to harm the king, anyway? As far as she'd noticed during her time here, he didn't seem to do anything. But it was not for her to judge, and so she settled Deyishene next to one of the walls far out of the king's way and sat back to watch.

Only when the servants had lit the torches so the entire ring was surrounded in light that left only a pale shadow in the center of the ring did King Seine guide Strider through a proper warm-up. By now, he was a good enough rider that no one was able to make a convincing argument that he needed someone to lead him on strings or anything as humiliating as that, so he was able to keep to himself and not be distracted by instructions by a riding instructor.

He did, however, watch the people sent with him. Seine rarely interacted with anyone directly beyond a request for this or that service. The ones he did were eventually reassigned and a few had ended up dead. It was difficult not to suspect that some of the deaths and most of the reassignments weren't to keep him powerless and without true support. He had many people who surrounded him that were loyal to 'the king' and very few who were loyal to Seine, the man. When possible, he liked to know the distinction.

As he rode around the edges of the arena at a moderate pace, Seine's unusually colored eyes picked out the familiar faces in the crowd who made up the entourage deemed necessary to keep him safe outside the castle. This man was called Jimor and was made fun of because his sweetheart packed him food with onions and garlic. This woman seemed frightened of everyone, but performed her duties well. The commander, whose judgment his subordinates seemed to respect. The young woman guard who often hunted on the trips to and from the Arena. He recognized them all by sight, once he'd seen them a few times. He was curious about everyone, but kept that curiosity in his own mind and occasional forays into what public records that were available in the castle.

There seemed to be something different tonight, though. He watched as the commander leaned over to talk quietly to the horse archer woman and as the woman joined the few other guards that stayed within the Arena. Seine didn't suspect anything, but watched the commander and the horse archer more frequently than her normally would, trying to see if he could figure it out. If there was something different about the night, he probably wouldn't be told unless it were unavoidable.

The door to the tavern slowly slide open, and as it did a tall hooded and robbed figure slipped under the top of the frame into the bustling bar. He pulled his hood back as he moved past the many people being careful not to bump into anyone. He took a seat at one of the only empty stools.

Ridley had a beaming smile on his face as usual, and after he positioned himself comfortably, he did a childish spin the head of the chair rotating him one time. "Ah. Good seat." He murmured to himself. His antics granted him queer looks from those sitting on either side of him.

The man gave his neatly trimmed golden goatee a scratch before he reached into one of the pockets of his robes. He pulled out two coins and placed them on the bar. Meanwhile his bare feet started playing with the loose rungs of his chair making a soft squeaking sound.

Vin watched the king through his warm up with the eye of an experienced rider. She'd pushed herself to many limits learning unique ways to maneuver with and about a horse. The thing she recognized in the king's routine was that he seemed to have simply developed an easy habit or pattern... there was no pushing.

Many times in Vin's life she'd had the thought, "Really, I should know better," but rarely had it actually stopped her. For instance, just about in the middle of her training days, before she was a fully-fledged archer, she'd decided that she wouldn't have her assignment anymore, and had simply up and left the training grounds on an arguably "stolen" mare. She had wanted to go home and see her family again, but she didn't get far. Chased down in the middle of the night when someone had finally noticed her missing from her bed, Vinelle was dragged back to the grounds in a sullen fury, and was sat down for a stern talking-to. Knowing now some of the punishments others had faced at less severe offenses, she was aware she'd come out of the ordeal extremely lucky.

This was quickly becoming one of those "know better" times, as she chewed thoughtfully on one lip, watching the king watching her and wondering what had drawn his particular curiosity this night. She also was surprised to find she felt a bit sorry for him -- he may be a spoiled king hiding away in his riches and luxury, but he looked terribly lonely out there in the big arena, with no companion to challenge his riding skills.

As his circling brought him back toward her direction, Vin finally couldn't help it. "You're a fine rider, my lord," she called, her voice respectful but without hesitation or fear, "But you don't push yourself. Would you care to learn something new?"

From the door of the arena, the unmistakable voice of her commander sounded, snapping her name loudly. "VINELLE. Outside, now!" She could hear him muttering all the way from the door as he stormed over, apparently prepared to drag her and Deyishene out of the arena by the bridle if he had to.

With a sigh and a perhaps childish roll of the eyes, Vin nudged Deyishene around by herself and urged him in a lazy walk towards the door. "Yes, sir. Apologies, sir," she responded halfheartedly, but obeyed nonetheless.

The conversation had been a bit dull by Ellia's standards. When rebels conversed, it usually contained a bit more scheming and threats. To eavesdrop on this family talk was just as bad as standing in silence throughout her shift. She had never even heard of that tavern before, despite its apparent importance in the rebel cause.

Ellia slowly unlocked the door, once again, and opened it up by just one inch. She looked inside to ensure that Mya was the only one coming out. The last thing she needed was for a prisoner to force his way through the exit.

When she saw the girl standing ready, Ellia stepped back slightly and opened the door enough for Mya to step through. "Quick, I need to lock it back up again," she whispered.

Vinelle was completely correct. Seine was getting complacent with his skills. He rode better than the average person and his Strider had the patience of an intelligent uncle humoring his nephew's strange whims - which is to say, the good horse would do anything that he deemed reasonable, but certainly wasn't going to get up to anything foolish when he ought to be sleeping like a normal horse.

He was trying not to be obvious about watching Vinelle (or any of the others), but it follows that a horse archer in particular would notice. Especially when it was her duty to protect him. Seine was, however, surprised that she called to him.

The king flushed with embarrassment (something that showed up well on his so pale skin) at being called out on not pushing himself. He had to admit to himself that he wasn't, but he didn't manage to get rein on his own embarrassment until the horse archer had been called away.

Rather belatedly, he called after her in a clear and carrying voice - a voice that would have been wonderful for public speaking, if he'd ever done any of it. "When you return, I would be interested in hearing what 'new' thing you had in mind."

He didn't want the young woman to get into trouble and hoped that his invitation would keep her out of the worst of it with her commander. She hadn't sounded disrespectful.

Seine didn't generally like riding instructors, but he had the idea that she wouldn't discourage him from attempting something after a first set-back under the dismissive comment of, "Well, you probably shouldn't have been learning that anyway, Your Highness. It's dangerous."

Mya moved through the door quickly once Ellia had opened it. She was no longer smiling, and she was starting to feel a bit tired. Trying to talk to her father was draining; she only wanted information about the rebellion, and he wanted to talk "family". However... She hoped she wouldn't need to talk to him again, that this tavern would actually yield some results. Her superiors were getting impatient with her; her investigations had been slow moving of late.

"Thank you." Mya said to the guard, a half-hearted smile on her face. "I'll let you get back to work." Mya leant against the wall for a moment, then slowly turned to leave.

Ellia quickly shut the door and locked it once again, carefully checking that all was well. She slipped the key back around her belt loop and rested her hand against it.

She watched as Mya slowly began walking away. The girl was obviously drained from the experience, questioning her father couldn't have been easy. But that was her duty and that had to be respected.

"If you see another guard coming down," Ellia started, slightly unsure of how to say goodbye. "Tell them, well, that they're late."

The commander seemed caught off-guard by King Seine's reply, freezing in place as he was obviously torn between preventing a potential disaster and not wanting to appear to openly oppose the king's stated wishes. Vin hesitated as well, eying the commander in open amusement. He finally turned his gaze up to her in a heated glare before bowing to the king with his reply, "I will arrange for Archer Vinelle's lessons to be reviewed and approved for your benefit, my lord."

Vin grinned down at him as he turned back to her, the glare returning. To her he said in much quieter, much darker voice, "I believe you have a bit of leisure time approaching. It is my serious recommendation that you take that time immediately, before one of the king's advisers comes after your head."

"Of course, Commander. I'll gather my things at once."

Although she had the urge to turn back to the king with a friendly wave, she refrained due to concern for the commander's health. Instead, she clicked to Deyishene and urged him into an easy trot back toward the barracks. She had at least a week of freedom to spend in town, and she intended to make the best of it. Being a royal guard was certainly an honor, but spending so much time out in the secluded castle grounds could get very, very boring.

King Seine sat upright on his silver dapple bay and watched the exchange, holding himself with the squared shoulders and regally blank expression of the king he was (in name, anyway).

He nodded at the commander's response, gave another brisk nod in Vinelle's direction and turned Strider and himself back to the ring as he urged his horse into more of a canter than the previous trot. Strider gave him a slightly startled snort, but did as directed.

Seine did his best to act the rest of the evening as if he gave no more thought to the incident. If no one else introduced him- or herself, or otherwise brought themselves to his attention, he'd return to the castle at the usual hour.

Adir looked up and peered through his glasses. So many people were now entering the Tavern that it was difficult to make sure they were all being served. His busboys were doing a decent job, but it was obvious that many of the patrons were being ignored for far too long. One young man has been sitting at the bar patiently waiting for quite some time. He didn't seem to be upset about the service yet, but Adir was not prepared to take that chance.

Placing his cleaning rags back underneath the bar, he briskly walked over to the young man. "Would you like anything, sir?"

The beaming man had not even noticed the wait, for he had been picking up conversation with those around him. From them, he learned a little about the fight the night before. His smile lengthened slightly as he heard about the clergyman getting his face punched in, but not enough to be noticed.

He pulled out some more coin as the barkeep drew near. His attention turned to the elderly man his right hand raising making the two chatting men on either side of him quite down. "Oh good evening sir. My new friends here would each like a refill of their drinks. I'll just have mug of water myself, please." Ridley stacked the few coins into a little tower as he spoke. His blue eyes wide as ever as he looked at Adir.


As he finished speaking both men cheered thanking Ridley for his offer.

Much to the disapproval of her superiors, Vin had more or less frequented the Neckwood Tavern as soon as she was old enough to pull it off while she was in training in Helidor City. Now that she was afforded a break from duty, it only natural that it was the very first place she stopped. With her horse Deyishene tucked happily away in the nearby stable, Vin all but skipped her way into the Tavern. She'd gone without most of her armor for the trip, although her wardrobe still mostly consisted of leather -- dark supple leather leggings, sturdy boots, and the one piece of armor she kept were her bracers -- but she managed to end the hide trend with her cotton blouse and laced-up bodice. Although her fingers itched when they were out of reach of her bows, she was wise enough to leave them with Deyishene's tack and gear, but she did keep a dagger tucked in her belt.

"Adir!" Vinelle beamed as she weaved her way through the tables to approach the bar. She didn't know if he'd remember her, as he had so many people in and out of his establishment and she hadn't been back in awhile, but she was happy to see him anyway. Finding an open spot to the side of a bright-eyed man in an odd robe and his two fans, she leaned forward on the bar to grin again at Adir with a glint in her eye. "It's so good to see you! Could I pester you for some of your sweet mead? The King's wines are nothing compared to your drinks, good man."

Adir smiled happily, taking joy in the joy of his patrons. Having such a generous man in the bar on occasion was good business - Soon others would be buying rounds for the house and extending favors to newly made friends. The Tavern could expect a long night of drinking ahead of it now.

"Of course, sir," Adir replied. He reached behind him to grab two fresh mugs and filled them from a nearby tap. He placed these in front of the two, now beaming, men at the bar. Adir then found an especially clean glass to fill high with ice and water. This is he gave to the young man with a grin and a wink.

"That was mighty kind of you, sir."

Trying not to ignore either patron, Adir leaned over the bar and turned to Vin with interest. "And hello to you! My, how long has it been since you've come in here? You missed a bit of excitement last night, you know."

"Thank you good barkeep." He happily took his clean drink and clanked it together with his new fans. The two men began to guzzle down their drinks as Ridley gently sipped at his. His eyes closing as he enjoyed the crisp drink cooling him down.

As Ridley's eyes slowly opened they caught the dark haired women sitting next to one of the two drinking men. He continued to smile. His hand reached into his robe pulling out two more coins. He leaned over and placed them down in front of her.


"I think she said sweet mead Adir." He recalled the name having been shouted by her as she walked in, so it was safe to assume it was the barkeep's. He also couldn't quite place it but this women looked slightly familiar.

"An exciting night?" Vinelle feigned surprise, her eyes widening dramatically. "Oh, Adir, honestly I'd be worried if a night in your tavern didn't see some kind of excitement." She grinned and settled into a barstool, propping her chin in her hand and apparently knowing the man well enough to gear up for a good tale. "Did anything get broken, this time? On a person or part of your equipment?"

Her probing was somewhat interrupted as she was surprised by the robed man's producing of coins for her drink. She sat up a little straighter, giving him a closer look. She wasn't unused to having her bar tabs paid for, but she usually had to coax it out of the patrons with a rousing or embarrassing story about training or fellow soldiers, or by promising not to sing...

"Your kindness is appreciated," she said honestly, trying not to look as suspicious as she felt. "And what's put you in such a good mood as to spoil good coin on others' drinks, dare I ask?" Sure, it was probably fairly rude to ask a benefactor their motives, but Vin had never claimed to be demure. And she maintained a crooked smile as she asked, hopefully indicating that rudeness wasn't the intention.

Ridley tilted his head slightly as the women asked her question. "Nothing really it just cuts the tension, and I have plenty of coin anyway. Really a small price to pay to make this a happier world." His grin was toothy upon saying this it seeming innocent enough if not a tad bit eerie.

Both fans gave him a pat on the back as they finished their drink. As they began to stand Ridley asked softly. "Still going to meet me where I told you tomorrow night? I'm sure you will really enjoy it." Both men nodded. "Don't worry boss we will be there, and thanks again."

"Don't mention it." With that both men left the tavern for home both already having had several drinks before Ridley bought them that last round. With both gone he took another sip of his water, while waiting to hear Adir's full explanation of the fight the night prior before he would speak again.

Adir chuckled at Vin's light teasing. His Tavern drew all kinds. It had gained quite the reputation over the past few years, but that was to be expected. He had done his best to create a homey atmosphere, and what could possibly put one more at home than fighting?

"It was a sight to see, but I'm sure that the details would bore you. Nothing more than a disagreement and a bit of blood. We were able to clean this old place up in no time."

With an elegant motion, Adir swept the two coins off of the bar and into his pocket, pulling out a new mug for the mead. The rush of business had him fearing a drought, but for now there was enough for at least one more glass. He filled it straight to the brim and placed it before Vin, spilling only one scant drop. "So how are you, my dear girl? Made any guards cry lately?"

Vinelle nodded her thanks to Adir as he set the mug in front of her, then raised it toward the robed man in a toast of thanks. "I'd offer my thanks personally, but I'm afraid I haven't gotten your name," she laughed. "But I am Vinelle, and I will not forget your generosity."

Taking a surprisingly delicate sip, she savored the sweet honey-taste on her tongue as Adir went on to ask about her recent doings. The one thing on her mind, naturally, was the outburst in the king's riding session. "Guards, no..." she pondered, taking another sip before setting the mug down. "I may have nearly given the commander his death, though." With a laugh, she shrugged innocently and spread her hands. "I may have offered my services as a riding tutor directly to the king. The poor man looked so bored riding around in circles, and I assume no one else dares attempt to show him anything more interesting for fear of it being 'dangerous'. But the commander was so put off by it that he sent me away on leave a whole day early." She smirked. "I suppose I should try that more often..."

"If it keeps bringing you back into my Tavern, then by all means annoy whomever you like!" Castle like was so filled with decorum and hierarchical rankings that the occasional misstep amused Adir to no end. At least his Tavern remained open to all Helidor citizens, regardless of their occupation. That was one of the many reasons why he loved his work. If he were restricted to speaking only with this person or that, he would likely die of boredom before the week was through.

"Everyone should learn to ride well," he quietly mused, half to himself. "It's a skill that will always come in handy at some point in you life. Even the King should be prepared for that."

Mya turned when Ellia spoke, grinning a little. "I'll be sure to let them know, no problem." She smiled, and faced the girl completely.

"If you'd like... Once your replacement fills in, I'd be happy to have your company at the Neckwood Tavern. I'm... I'm not too good at the whole "making friends" thing, but I get the feeling you don't get out much. Maybe you'll enjoy it." Mya then turned and continued on her way out of the dungeons. She didn't pass any other guards on her way out, except the ones who were standing at their posts.

Mya left the castle stifling a yawn. Despite how tired she was, she knew that she'd get no sleep that night, at least not until she'd run herself dry with work. Besides, she'd put up with much less sleep before.

Well, that was certainly a thought. Ellia had not been to the Tavern in years. She had once been dragged out there by the older guards in a night of hazing, where she was fed drink after drink until she could no longer remember getting back to the castle. It wasn't her finest night and she had not touched drink since then. Still, visiting the Tavern for supper that night wouldn't hurt. She hoped.

Ellia still had some time before her shift ended, however. She stood with her back straight and listened carefully as footsteps echoed throughout the corridor.