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Angel had apparently opted for a lay in, as she rises slower than the others. She slips out of her bedroll, still dressed in the silk undergarments she wore on the Horn of Marius, and rubs her legs softly watching the exchange between the three risers, her eyes fixed on Liri, before pulling on a White Shirt and breeches.

"We need lodging, something more appropriate. And we need to deal with Daos." Her eyes go to the location of the mages body, her mind running through why he meant anything to her at all. "Bastian, go with Salia and get some food please? I will explain to Hiric."

Elias sits up and runs a hand over his face. Then he picks up his "shaving kit", his shirt, and a spare pair of breeches and goes outside looking for a place to get cleaned up.

Salia looks up at Bastian, miserable, her face smeared with dirt and dried blood and streaked with tears. Her voice is strangely calm, but barely audible - "There were those monsters, those grotdeir. And the bigger ones. And then there were those elf-things that killed Daos. And they were trying to kill us all I had to protect myself was a kitchen knife. And look at my hand."

Emotionless, she brings her hand forward to show Bastian. It is wrapped in a rag stained dark with dried blood. She gently unwraps the rag. Deep cuts adorn her first two fingers, on the inside, near the palm. The cuts are down to the bone and begin bleeding as soon as the rag is unwrapped.

Bastian has seen such injuries before - when a person's hand has slipped up from a knife's handle and run along the blade.

"I want to go home," she says, her voice near sobbing.

Angel stands motionless, watching the exchange, home... ? She understood the desire, yet had none.
She does not disturb them, rather waits in the wings, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

Liri had come over to Bastian and Salia when Salia was talking, and nods at her mention of "going home".

"Yes, that were terrible things that happened." When she sees the girl's mangled hand, she draws her breath in through her teeth with a hissing sound. "That looks bad. I don't know how to treat wounds like these. Do you, Bastian?" Liri looks the priest right into the eyes.

"Indeed, bad things." Angel says finally, moving in closer. "Sorry Salia, I did not realise you were injured, you should speak up." The half elfs face breaks into a semi smile, "Stay with her, please." She comments to Bastian,

"I will arrange lodging, these people understand me, we speak the same language."

With that she heads over to Fraso, spending at least five minutes locating him, her mind drawn to the celing, the way the timbers overlap. She hadn't seen a celing like that for years... No she had to focus, Fraso was there. "We need to talk to whoever is in charge, and to arrange lodging. I suggest we do that now my lord."

Bastian's stomach suddenly feels like it has a stone sitting in it. With a pitiful frown he gently places the soiled bandage back over her fingers to staunch the bleeding temporarily. "Come with me, child. We will remedy this presently." He wraps one arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. He knows that she is in intense pain. Any movement of the hand or the fingers reopens wounds like that, making it impossible to function in any way. When he finds a guardsman, Bastian asks humbly for a wide bowl and a goodly quantity of ale.

Liri nods as she watches Bastian and Salia leave. The man obviously knew what he was doing.

As Angel prepares to leave, Liri joins her. "Should I come with you? I could help you carry food back for breakfast."

"Perhaps that would be best." She comments watching them depart. She had been too caught up in her own things to notice.

"Master Fraso?" She asks the man directly. "Will you accompany us?"

Elias finds the latrine as empty and disused as the barracks, but there is a cistern of water available - clean but old smelling, and a stone sink.

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Fraso, staring at Daos' cloth-wrapped corpse, is slow to respond. "I suppose we should get some food, Gallius. And then make arrangements for our fallen comrade. I knew the Taken were dangerous, but I did not know they were here."

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A gateway leads from the barracks courtyard into the gateyard. It is blocked by an iron gate, currently closed and chained. A young man awaits on the far side of the gate, dozing in a chair in the shade of the wall. He awakens with a start when Bastian rattles the gate.

"Ale and a bowl? I can get you that...after I inform the watch officer that you are up and about, that is. He's given orders that you folk be questioned before being allowed to roam the town."

"Indeed Sir, we should." She turns, her fingers briefly brushing Liri's before moving to the door. "The Taken?" She asks curiously, looking at the Necromancer, he knew, he knew what they faced and Daos died..

Elias glances back towards the barracks before going inside, and smiles.

He draws water from the cistern and cleans up. After changing into his clean pair of clothes, he washes yesterdays's clothes. Returning to the barracks, he hangs his cloths on his backpack and looks around for something to eat.

Standing close to Angel, Liri turns back to Fraso, really looking at the man for the first time. Had he shared his information earlier, they might not have been taken unawares, and the man that had been called Fraso's friend during introductions might still live... she sighs, then turns to Angel again.

"Let's go find some food"

"The Taken" Fraso replies. "I wasn't sure, looking at the body. And to find one of them in the sea, even more unlikely. When I saw that dwarf, the one leading the grotdeir, I was shocked. When I saw and the others, the ones that killed Daos, I had no doubt.
"I am convinced now that the Taken are real. Or at least there are real, living races at the heart of the legend. And they are here in the Empire for some reason."

Angel manages (barely) to hold onto Fraso's words, her mind drifting off only occasionally as he speaks. It's a watershed moment - by far the longest utterance of his since Orr's Bay that Angel has managed to catch. She must be getting accustomed to the phenomenon.
Liri is more or less lost, fascinated instead by the fall of Angel's hair down her shoulders and catching only a few words of what the old man is saying.

Liri's hand comes up to touch Angel's hair, but looking away from Fraso, she suddenly catches herself. What was that? Keeping her wits about her was essential to her job, getting her mind wandering was so unlike her... she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it.

"Angel? Do we go now?" she asks, perhaps a little louder than necessary.