[CENTER][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210119/e22bd06ad7c8eb71800663bf01cd8627.png[/img][/CENTER] [hr] [i][color=d1fffc]Jesus Fixer Christ, I feel like shit.[/color][/i] Alja ran a hand through her hair, skin almost raw from the fervent scrubbing that last night had brought in an attempt to wash the stench of rat and sewer off. Her armor would stink for [i]months[/i] if she didn't wash it, she just knew it. And that was going to be a chore unto itself. Her face quirked into a slight smile. [color=d1fffc][i]But at least I don't[/i] smell [i]like shit anymore.[/i][/color] Eyes smarting from lack of good sleep, she stood before the tavern door, mulling over all that has happened. A dungeon that she'd never known about, filled with monstrous rats. An enormous boss that had taken an unreasonable amount of effort to finally kill. A brand new player that they'd found even deeper than Valena's group. And, for her, a steel warbow and a new sword to create. [i][color=d1fffc]I need to get back to Toraenis one of these days.[/color][/i] The sword she could create here, if she could buy the mats. But the warbow needed specialty materials that took her quite a while to acquire. And, of course, blacksmithing was probably very, very different in a post-glitch Pariah. Who knew if she could do it at all anymore? But those were thoughts for another time. For now, there were three orders of business. One, See if the group were all okay. Two, Wash her armor. She'd need to see about finding some soap or something. and three...visit Prophecy's guildhouse. See Leaves. See Luci. So. Best to knock out the first order of business. She threw open the door and strode into the Laughing Worg proper, hoping that someone would be in the tavern. [i][color=d1fffc]Rael, Kalie, definitely Graves after what happened down there, Seele, Kazuki, Benkei, Alex, that Wayfarer Artemis...[/color][/i] It was going to be a [i]long[/i] day.