“And now if one does,” Thayva began, turning to a cupboard, “I’m blaming you, dear.” She opened the cupboard and took out two handle-less ceramic cups. She stepped to the counter where a bucket of water she had pulled from the well earlier that morning sat, and dipped the cups inside, filling them. Returning to Serapis, she drunk from one and offered the other to him. [center]* * *[/center] Nick hurried to an open table, eagerly claiming it. Overjoyed to be among the first round of massages, he sat on it and stretched his back out. He chuckled through his nose as he noticed Jorn holding his masseuse up with his own late stretches. A human girl who looked in her late twenties with her long black hair pulled up in a neat bun approached him. Nick swore she had some pixie blood in her, with her pointed nose, petite appearance, and rather short stature. “Nick!” she greeted cheerfully as Nick laid down on the table, a slight Irish accent in her voice. Then, of course, there was her elephant’s memory. If Nick did not know any better, he would say she knew the names of every orphan in the mansion better than even the headmaster and mistress. “Last time I saw you, you were working on translating text, no?” She started rubbing Nick’s shoulders. “Don’t remind me,” Nick muttered into the pillow, making the woman smile. [center]* * *[/center] Kia glanced back at Laura’s comment before the dwarf had time to think on it. “Oh, and [i]I’m[/i] the one you think has something against a race?” Kia walked backwards a couple steps to one of the empty tables as her friends went to others nearby. Other girls had already chosen a couple of the tables, all dressed in the standard high-cut sports-bra-like top, and a pair of short Kia had the suspicion were originally intended for use by the males, and were just tailored to fit the opposite gender. Except, of course for the lizardfolk with only their wrapped loincloths that made Kia thankful for the shorts, even if they were once intended for boys. [center]* * *[/center] The dracon escorted the mute halfling to the massage room, the two trainers careful to keep the halfling and dwarf apart. They brought them to tables on opposite ends of the room. In the time it took to get to the massage room, what he had done sunk in. The child dragged his feet, dreading the thought of what the dwarf might dish out to get back at him and regain the pride he had lost by losing a fight to a halfling. Even so, knowing the dwarf got what he deserved provided a bit of comfort. With the table already a bit lower than the others for the sake of ease for the halfling woman manning it, the child hopped on it without any aid, and laid down with a sigh. He gave only a nod or shake of his head as the masseuse tried to make conversation. He swore he could feel the angry gaze of his rival from across the room, but that was a worry that could wait for twenty minutes.