The barmaid's brows furrowed in sympathy, but she didn't say anything to the you girl. Although the delivery hadn't been nurturing, the reminders of reality Reether had thrown at the girl would need to stick if she was going to be staying in the city. Although, it seemed as though her visit was a temporary one, and she will most likely be back to living on her own relatively soon if that was what she so chose. Bella stooped another maid on her way to the back, and instructed her to bring both the brightly dressed dwarf and their familiar hunter meals, whether it be breakfast or lunch that was left. At this point, most everyone had made their way to the inn for their first meal, so in the back of her mind she reckoned that the first meal was over. 

	"I can bring you up right now," she said in a softer voice to the strange Frost Elf. She jogged down to the other end of the counter to cross it, and came next to her. She didn't touch her, though her hand hovered a bit if she wanted to grab it; maybe foolishly, but the barmaid was assuming she was younger than she actually was. In a quieter voice, one that the human thought only the two could hear, she said, "I'm sure your parents taught you very well." She lead the two toward the staircase on the side of the common room.
	
	Out from the kitchen, a third woman appeared with two plates, one in each hand. With a smile, she quickly brought them to bear in front of the two remaining patrons sitting at the bar. A cheerful greeting followed the pleasant smell of grilled meat. Upon the plates were slabs of cooked venison and a pile of cooked grains; a very filling meal, if not the most pleasant. She left and came back with two glasses of water, putting them down with the meal. She leaned back, hand on her hip, "Anything else I can get ya'?" She'd bid them a good meal and whisk anyway if not. 
[hr][color=00a99d][h3]Delsaran Taranath[/h3][/color]
	The cathedral in Urenda that housed the congregation rose into the dim sky with an eerie grace; it was a tall, wide gray stone building adorned with carvings of Mitchin now defaced by those who lived there before. The bottoms of the frescoes were rubbed raw, the evidence of the elves' and other inhabitants of the settlement attempt to erase the Anti-God's presence. White steps lead to two large double doors encased in wrought iron frames. Inside, the building was the same gray stone, but many tapestries and windows broke the monotony. The flowing tapestries had been replaced by those of Relanthon and his deeds, or members of his pantheon, in an attempt to distance the cathedral from Mitchin's influence. The main building was a bit of a mess, scattered with cots, tables, writing desks, and elves of all kinds. A constant dim of conversation could be heard, but it was not especially loud. 

	In the center of the room was a grand staircase leading to the two upper levels. Down the polished steps came two elven figures clad in purple robes. The one coming first was a tall man white bright white hair carrying a staff strapped across his back, as well as a rucksack. Behind him, a slender blonde woman without such adornments. She walked with a certain dignity, and her hard-set green eyes, ringed in thin wrinkles uncommon to her race, held little compromise. Their heads were turned to each other in hushed conversation, but when they came to the end of the staircase several others approached, so the two parted. Del started for the double doors, and sighed loudly at the sound of men bickering on the main road. He quickened his steps.
[hr]
	" 'll 'ave yer damn hide, Goldman!"

	"Oi, I did'n' take [i]notin'[/i] from you, ya' damn idiot! He took mah fuckin' fishing pole!"
	
	"Ya' ne'er e'en had any damn line fer that piece a' shit! Admit it! Ya' good fer notin'! Ya' took my girl's damn mirror!"

	The two men stood rigid and faced each other, both red in the face. One, a scrawny man barely covered in rags, stood on shifting feet with a frightened look on his face. Roo Goldman had little in the ways of possession but still did little to help out around the settlement. People had suspected he was the thief for a few days, but the priests had cleared him of involvement. Thomas Reccar, a man of little note, stepped closed to Goldman with a pointed finger. Apparently, his daughter's mirror had gone missing.