[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]http://33.media.tumblr.com/76ca11af5771405a055ca9291e9e4b2b/tumblr_nvhilyU39J1qcxymno4_500.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=b8860b][b]Location:[/b][/color] Qasr El Nil Barracks (His Quarters -> VIP Commons)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr][center][hider=Qasr El Nil Barracks]
[img]http://english.ahram.org.eg/Media/News/2015/12/16/2015-635858681525689318-568.jpg[/img]
[color=dimgray][sub]Egyptian Museum located at the top right, diagonally across the street from the Barracks.[/sub][/color]
[/hider][/center]

	No odd dreams of ancient gods or armies of the dead, no creatures from myth spanning back to the uncertain origins of humanity to plague him as he slept. No, Reginald had enough of his own difficulties the previous night without having to add the splash of horrifying mysticism that had been everpresent into the mix. Alcohol or not, the Lord Major had swayed between dreamless sleep in the night or staring at his ceiling, wondering why so much was happening to and around him. Why had this drama waited until [i]now[/i], his declining years, to visit unannounced rather than when he was younger, stronger, capable of dealing with the problems in a more vigorous manner. 

	Reginald came back into the land of the waking in the same manner as he finally got to sleep: Gradually, and with a bumpy ride. He slowly pulled himself from his bed and cleaned up, dressed appropriately, then set about the ordinary tasks a man of his age and standing goes through to meet the day. After all, he did have an example to set for the rest of the people under his command, regardless of whatever personal difficulties beset him. 

	He took his breakfast in the common room of VIP quartering, the same place that he had the day prior. It was the spot where his guests, or "The Fellowship", had bunked, for those of them that had accepted his offer of the safety of the Barracks. The food was a bit less garish than it was the previous day as well; still lavish for someone inclined toward soldiers' fare, but not the epic, five-star affair that visiting dignitaries might have expected. Still, it was enough to get his fill of jam and scones, fruit, and a helping of decent sausage. "His fill", as it was, sated easily as the man had little appetite and ate mostly because he knew it would be a trying day that day. He would need his strength. The first such expected trial occurred as the military courier appeared with a message from the Anglo-American Hospital. The mundane tasks that must be performed after a death always wearied him. 

	[color=b8860b]"It seems that I must be off directly following breakfast, you see."[/color] he said aloud. He wasn't talking to anyone in particular that time, but his next words were addressed to the soldier who delivered the message to him. [color=b8860b]"Make sure that a car and driver are waiting within a quarter hour. I've some business that requires my immediate attention, prior to our other engagements."[/color] He waved the man away and poured another cup of strong, black tea. Hopefully, this day would be better than the last.