Melvin found it odd that Deimos didn’t hear his name during his lengthy explanation. She must have been more tired than he realized, and he had just run his mouth off for the entire night to explain everything about himself while forcing her to stay up and listen.

“That’s good to hear,” he said, accepting her hand and shaking it. “Would’ve been a waste of a night if you didn’t want to join me after hearing that. I think I mentioned my name a few times, but it’s Melvin.”

Although he felt invigorated from letting everything off his chest, the dark elf figured that his new comrade was exhausted. He stood up from the wine barrel he sat on and opened a door leading into his room. He probably wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed at times, but even he was enough of a gentleman to know when a lady needed her rest. 

“You can borrow my room and get some shut eye. We usually operate in the evening anyway, plus we’ll be moving to the next hideout early this evening, so now’s the time to relax,” Melvin offered, showing her an old but decent bed with a worn mattress and blankets. “It’d be best not to come in and out of here too much lest we attract some unwanted attention. Like I said, I can’t wander about because of my appearance, so I’ll be around all day if you need me. My guys are in town scouting for news or buying food, so there’s no need to worry.”

He left Deimos alone after getting her acquainted with the room. As the wine cellar was rather cramped, Melvin needed to shift and shimmey around some stray barrels to reach a desk in the corner of the damp quarters. He used his magic to light a lantern hanging just above, allowing him to see the detailed map of Sord. The dark elf sat down and inspected it carefully, intent on spending the afternoon strategizing what to do next. Melvin also had journals from his conspirators detailing their findings after scouting the Sect of Maxwell’s various temples and facilities across the country. He relied on their accounts to figure out the details of his latest plans.