The rest of the evening passes uneventfully. Grys, Alexia and kal'Tarron return to their seats after coffee, and eventually retire to bunks in the sleeper car, whilst Orsik and Muzdum snatch what scraps of rest they can between the constant noise and vibration, the absence of anywhere to relax properly, and the threat of being robbed while they sleep. Mythra, after enjoying a fine meal and his choice from a wide selection of fine brandies, wines, and anything else he might want, retires to a comfy feather bed made up with fresh, fragrant linens.
After the best part of another day spent travelling, during which time Mythra continues to make the most of the amenities first class has to offer, the coach approaches Hatheril late in the afternoon. It looks small and peaceful, a sleepy backwater enlivened only by its convenient placement as a transportation hub. The group's furtive hanger-on is still seated in plain view of Grys, Alexia and kal'Tarron, making no move to leave and doing his best to look nonchalant as he keeps an eye on them over his day-old paper. If the last stop at Wroat was anything to go by, the group has about five minutes to exit the coach before it makes to set off again.