[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 (Courtyard -> Officers' Club)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	One of the benefits of being the commanding officer of a military base in a foreign country with which they were not engaged in hostilities was that, unless a specific incident occurred, paperwork was minimal. Point of fact, his own dailies were handled in a matter of minutes. Everything else was a matter of being on standby for whatever of the Crown's interests required their attention. As one might expect, this gave most personnel a remarkable amount of free time, officers especially. It also meant that the possibility for a little action, and almost any kind would do, was taken as a celebratory occasion for which volunteers stood in the many. 

	Such it was with Vera's new assistant and his horrifying facial wounds. It got to the point that, relaxed by the recent influx of guests and indigenous personnel, certain security procedures had cut corners. Nothing that could not be fixed (at least on the temporary) by a judicious amount of well placed bellowing. Between yelling at his subordinates and the morning's paperwork, this concluded all of his standard Commanding Officer-ing for the day. What luck, it wasn't even time for tea. 

	Unfortunately, fate seemed to put off the beginnings of the initial trip yet again; more death and injury, the adding of a new fellow to the Fellowship, and all that. He really should catch Vera up on these happenings. People pointed Reginald back to the Officers' Club. Curious, he had just come from there. Well, if these fates directed him back to the place where they kept some of his favorite whisky, then who was he to argue? With a shrug, the Lord Major toddled himself to the doors of his Second Office here in the Qasr El Nil Barracks. 

	[color=b8860b]"Ah, I see we have a fair to middling amount of our Fellowship back. Lady Munn, it is a pleasure to receive you as always. Though you do look a bit frazzled, my dear girl. From the incident with your assistant, I'm sure. I've got an enlisted fellow who will keep us appraised of the situation with Mr. Zalil and the others' medical adventures."[/color] Reginald strode back to his favorite booth toward the back of the club. He had left a bottle and pair of tumblers there, not to mention a box of personal effects that he was very foolish to have left unattended. [color=b8860b]"Apologies for my manners, of course. It has been a trying day all about, I'm sure. Now then, welcome back Lady Kingston, Miss Ridgeway, Miss Clark. By all means help yourself; we are at your service. But to business: Peter's final arrangements have been handled. Mr. Benaszewski has volunteered his services as protector in the interim. And to older matters - We are fully provisioned as of last evening. Luxury items and lists of personal comforts arrived this morning, and all that is left is to select an appropriate mode of transportation. We are, from the end of my responsibilities, wrapped up with string (as they say)."[/color] 

	Despite the hour, Reginald poured himself one more dram of whisky, and stood holding it for a moment. Uncertain as to the wisdom of the question, he was nonetheless obligated by propriety to ask anyway: [color=b8860b]"So, what are the particulars of your morning, ladies?"[/color]