"That's right," Morgaine said, eyeing up the weapons with a curious eye. "Your man there, he picked us up. A couple of others too, but we can't say where they've gone. Must've just wandered off to somewhere we couldn't follow or . . s" she trailed off at the end. There were certainly a variety of weapons. Huge heavy swords like the one Victor's got, and massive hammers cut from stone, and that spear the other churchman was holding before he died. "You don't mind if I-" she said, reaching out and pulling a modest looking thing from the box. It slid out with a hiss of metal on metal, revealing a sort of walking cane with a sharpened edge. Almost a sword in disguise, by the feel of it. "Err, I suppose there's space." She took a few experimental swings at the empty air, getting a feel for the weight. This wasn't a harvesting scythe by any measure, nor a wooden club with which to chase foxes. This was a proper weapon, made to draw blood and kill. She obviously demonstrated little knowledge in its application. "Sorry . . . it's the being a hunter. New to all this, you see." She set the weapon down on the table sheepishly, before returning to the piles of clothes.

"I don't suppose the two of you gentlemen would know where someone is to get a bit of privacy," Morgaine said, finally settling on a set of clothes. It was certainly the widest option she'd seen from here, a bit more so in the shoulders than the waistline. These Yharnamites, they must worship the slender physique, but this one'll do, at least far more than any of the others. "Am I supposed to be following you about now, Sir Dietrich?" Not the worst way to spend her night, if she discovers she has the stomach for the spilling of blood. "Or would you have me stay with your lad?" She made a head gesture to Victor, her hands occupied by the clothing.