[center][h3]Valthyr[/h3][/center]
[sub]Location: On the streets of Dawnhaven, slowly on the way towards the hot springs
Mentions: Desmond [@Theyra], Ivor [@Beard Dad], Sya [@PrinceAlexus][/sub]
[hr]
That had been a refreshing change! No superfluous nobles to be seen anywhere and more discipline in spite of none of the participants nominally be a soldier, quite contrary what had happened the evening before.

Valthyr held the two liquor bottles in his hand, half-absentmindedly weighing their potentially hefty content. It probably had enough alcohol for it not to freeze even if left standing outside in the next blizzard that might haunt this place, but that fact only reminded him to remain cautious. [i]Moonshine[/i]... the name invoked an utter void in his memory, the decision not to talk to anybody about his educational gap in terms of Lunarian culture being a quick one to make. Or was this a local brew, or maybe one that could only be made since these special stellar circumstances had come into existence ?

He would open the first of the bottles later. The risk of just a gentle sip already tipping him over was manageable he deemed, given his rather hulking size, but there was the matter of discipline again: Accelerating one of the most intrinsic and yet ubiquitous processes of nature, the one of growth, was a matter that was performed best with the clearest and most well rested of minds. He needed to attend to his future house for a short while longer until he could leave it to its own devices for a good night's sleep or so.

Also, what would Desmond say if he'd arrive at the merchant's home to accept the generosity of having a room there while already bearing the scent of a drunkard ? No no, he would keep the liquor with him untouched until later this evening. Maybe Desmond would be happy to have a drink with him together ? Then at least, if things came to worst, they'd have an enjoyable team effort at sprinkling the floor with reverse produce before having a headache some time later.

As Valthyr guided his steps towards the pompous residence of Flynn's self-declared bestest friend, he once more realized in just how much of a dire need the place was for some compensation for that unbearable building. A few days tops he figured, then things would have improved a lot! He only needed to make sure he wouldn't end up living in the epicentre of the residence's exhaust. No matter whether that dipshit burned diamonds to heat his place, smoke was still smoke.

The runes he had started were still there, albeit covered in a fresh layer of snow he had to remove again carefully in order to know where exactly he had left off. As he continued drawing, nothing seemed to happen. Just intricate lines carved into the dirt, seemingly fragile and almost random in direction and width. Yet Valthyr knew better, he could feel that the process already started to focus the lingering energy of its surroundings. The winter was cold, but it was not [i]that[/i] cold for that not to work anymore. It was invisible still, but that would change in a couple of hours and not only due to a common seed budding way too fast.

Hopefully the condensed lump of arrogance wouldn't come around and trample it while it was still small and fragile. Valthyr hoped for more snow to fall at the thought as that would act as a protective layer in terms of both warmth and sight.

The druid wanted to stick to the promise he had made: manufacture a new chair for the lamia named Sya. He needed to find the man named Ivor, but where to start ? Should he turn raven and have an easy time watching the streets from above or should he stay human and try his chances with talking to random individuals ?

Random individuals it was. Hadn't everything begun at some lovely hot springs he had dipped his bird head in ? Maybe that was a good place to start.