[b][u]A good night's rest[/u][/b]


Following the wee patching up job done by Do'Karth, Rozalia was in higher spirits than she had been for a while now. One could certainly correlate that to the whiskey - which she had pretty much herself the rest of the night, considering her Khajiit friend's distaste for the liquor - but it seemed the sulk Roze had suffered with since departing from Windhelm, had been lifted permanently from her shoulders. The light of the inn, the chatter and laughter that grew in volume as each minute passed, and the spirits of the entire group raised her mood. As the night passed on and the chatter died down, Roze finally found herself getting some decent sleep. No nightmares, no restlessness, no headaches.

As it happened, the headaches came the morning after - for all the whiskey did to sweeten her smile and her sleep, it was not kind when Roze awoke with a dry mouth and burning head, curled up beneath a table close to the hearth with her cloak tangled around her. The shuffling movements of other's awakening forced her to get up herself, struggling to get to her feet without emptying the contents of her stomach on the already stained floor.

"Ugh... this is why I stick to rum..." Roze muttered as she crawled from beneath the table, holding her head with one hand in an attempt to keep the pounding down. What had she gotten up to last night? It was somewhat of a blur after she and Do'Karth began mingling with the crowd. 

[i]"Ah... serves me right. I never learn my lesson."[/i] This thought was accompanied with the sheepish memories of past "adventures" with whiskey. There were inns she was still banned from down in the Rift... and as for her bedfellows often picked up on those wild nights, the less said about them, the better.

Somehow finding some fresh water on one of the moved tables - she had a strange inkling that she'd dumped salt in a few of the many pitchers last night ([i]"By the Nine, I'm such a bastard when I've had a drink."[/i]) - Roze downed a few mugs of it as she took a seat by Sevine and Leif, resting her head gently on her hands with a low groan.

"I'll pay you both with whatever you want if you make sure I never touch fucking whiskey again." Said with a husky voice, but there still remained some humour in her tone, she offered up a lazy smile to the pair as she sat upright. By the looks of things, Leif's night had been just as rough as hers - ah, the wonders of alcohol. She cursed it's name now, but she'd be back to the mead by nightfall, most likely. As for Sevine, she too looked tired - but there seemed to be a heaviness in her eyes that likely hadn't been brought on by a hangover. 

Speaking of, Roze could use a cure for it, and what did that better than food? Well, her stomach both grumbled and turned over at the sight of it, but she forced some bread down. It was deliciously fresh, and it would do well enough to quell the queasiness in her stomach. If they were taking to the sea by the afternoon, Roze wanted to be as sober as possible. She had her sea-legs, but they were certainly shaky after a night like the one she'd just had.

Pausing in her breakfast as Ashav talked, some of her brighter spirits ebbed away at the mention of their next job - she had no issues with Winterhold, other than how cold it was... but the mention of the Kamal again was a worrying one. They were in no fit state to fight them again - but surely the College would prove to be a worthy adversary against the monsters? Some of the best Mages in Skyrim and beyond attended the College, both as Apprentices and Masters. In fact, there was an old friend of hers living in the place - Sebastian Vorell; born to a Nord mother, Breton father, and raised in Cyrodiil, he - none too modestly - considered himself to have the best attributes of all three races. Paired with an uncanny talent in Conjuration magic, and an unflinching ability to bring out the inner Sanguine in anyone he met, Roze had found herself in tight spots with Sebastian many a time before.

Also... involving whiskey, most of the time. The son of a bitch knew her weaknesses.

Hearing that Winterhold had finally fallen completely this time around, she wouldn't be surprised to find Sebastian to have survived such events. He had a knack for finding trouble, certainly (Especially when she visited), but he had an even greater manner of getting out of it.

"There's an old companion of mine at the college... I bet if we find him upon arriving, he'd give us some help." Roze murmured quietly to Sevine beside her as Ashav called for questions. If Kamal were indeed behind the disaster, Sebastian would prove quite useful in battle - he'd never turned one down yet, anyway.