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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nephis" data-source="post: 9548431" data-attributes="member: 20459">And unfold it does...TWYLL sits quietly in the shadows, smoking a bowl of her favorite dwarven pipeleaf, aptly nicknamed "firestarter." Her gaze remains focused on the occupants of the booth - is that Casimir? and Dusan? and what's-her-name? Oh, right: Bogdana. Her mouth twists in a grimace: those three are not fit to survive! The scorchmarks Twyll can discern on their clothing - admittedly slight - mark them as possibly having been near the skirmish ... or perhaps there was another? Or even just a cooking fire accident: all possibilities from what she has seen of these idiots.Zards! Her relinquishing of the mask is indeed timely: things look to be falling apart faster than they have been expecting! Now if she can only get closer to hear them and maybe even catch a glimpse of their cloaked conspirator.The drow scans the room, looking for a way in. A creak at the entrance catches her attention, and Twyll smiles. "Firestarter, indeed!" she murmurs almost silently to herself. First putting out her pipe, she then stands and begins to make her way toward the foyer, her smile widening into a welcome. There stands the nameless stranger from earlier, the one who paved the way for her own speedy exodus from the ambush. "Well met, young sir! Allow me to buy something to quench your fiery thirst!"</blockquote>