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Her breathy laughter hiccuped to a halt as she took in the sight of a half-dressed Letalus smiling down at her from less than two feet away. She was not allowed time in which to do more than blink, however, before he spoke and sent her thoughts skittering in yet another direction. Apparently her recently formed impressions that he was unaware of having done more than merely fallen asleep and woken again had been wrong. Or at least, she could think of no other way to interpret his words.

By all eighteen hells, the man was calm about it.

"You didn't frighten me. No, well yes you did, but..." She trailed off as she reviewed the unusually honest responses that were offering themselves up for speaking and realized that none of them would do. At all. She dropped her eyes to her hands and twiddled a bit of her shift nervously between her fingers.

"I just didn't expect you to..." Unfeeling would be the kindest thing to call it if she simply laid out the word 'DIE' to the recently resurrected man. But by all the Saints, it was strange to think that he had touched upon the subject himself, and so calmly. Merro suddenly wondered if he had some sort of condition which left his hold on life tenuous. Did he simply have these episodes now and again where he seemed to expire? Had Sentelle really just woken him instead of resurrected him?

"Is it going to happen again?" she suddenly blurted, looking up at him anxiously. "Are you going to...what ought I to do if I find you not breathing again?"

ooc: Praise be to God that CPR hasn't been invented yet.

Familiar with the concept - and some of the practice - of deception but lacking experience in the human interaction department, Merro swallowed the lie whole without even pausing to chew or taste.

"Oh," she said with surprise, and then a sigh of relief. Her mind had been coming up with all sorts of unpleasant scenes, and while her misunderstanding and over-reaction was embarrassing, relief was still the dominant feeling at finding out how simple a matter it really had been. What a goose she'd been! She took the offered hand and pulled herself up from the floor, meeting his promise with a wide and bright smile that was as rare as his warm and gentle one.

Ah, if only Lord Kisan could see them now, standing together half-dressed with hands clasped and beaming at each other for all the world like two happy, normal people. He'd die of apoplexy on the spot and save them both a world of heartache and trouble.

"I hold you to that promise," she said laughingly. The details of what exactly they still had to do were passed over. In her current light-hearted mood she had no desire to examine again his duty and her desires and where they collided. For now, she would hold onto what small happiness she could find, and not examine it to shreds, and perhaps she could hold to her vow for a little while longer.

...and finally get dressed, if the Saints were kind.

And just like that, he was back to his usual self - ordering her about. The temporarily new and improved Merro nodded obediently, though she was not so far reformed as to either thank him graciously or actually voice her complaisance, and actually did as she was bid as soon as the door was fairly closed.

Her unpleasantly pinked shift was hastily hauled from the tub where it was still soaking and wrung out. She'd have to see about getting it cleaned at the next inn they stopped at, but for now she simply folded the damp fabric and made it the lowest layer in the bundle she was re-making from last night's purchases. The grey gown was wriggled into and laced up as best as she could manage on her own. The leather belt and boots were slipped on next, and finally she grabbed the pearl set from the washbasin. She frowned and nibbled on her lip as she paused for a moment to consider the wisdom of wearing them, but as she had no pockets or pouch to place them in she ended up putting the jewelry back on, contenting herself with shaking her hair down over the earrings and tying her cloak well over the necklace to hide them.

The indigo bodice and skirt were taken from the chest and placed atop her spare shift, and her muddied silk blouse was scrounged up from a corner and wrapped up into the cloth bundle as well, but the stolen tunic and trousers were left to be thrown away. Catching sight of two lumpy sacks slumped a bit forlornly in a corner by the door, she suddenly recalled Leana and Nova's offerings with a bit of surprise that the contents should have passed the night so peacefully, lumped together as they were and with all the noise of the shifting inhabitants of the room. She gingerly picked up the sacks and settled them next to her clothes. With all of this settled, Merro took a glance about the room to make certain she was leaving nothing behind unintentionally, and caught sight of the sword on the floor where Lady ZhaDurn had set it aside. Ah yes. The sword.

"You," she said in a low voice as she stepped over to pick it up, "are far more trouble than you are worth." And then she smiled as she decided that the sword was therefore well-suited to her. Slipping the naked blade through her belt to hang at her side by the cross-piece, she found that she could carry it fairly well without advertising it, as her cloak was full and draped nearly to the floor.

Settling her cloth-wrapped bundle in the crook of her arm and carrying the sacks by their cord-wrapped necks, she took a last glance around the room where so much had happened in comparison of the short time she'd spent in it and then hurried out to meet Letalus downstairs while praying earnestly for a less eventful day than the two previous.

Shutting the door behind her Sentelle sighed. I need to talk with Merro about that sword, she thought anxiously, but I'm sure that Letalus will want to talk about whatever it was that just happened. Just as well I need to ask him what happened last night.

She had meant to leave the door open so that she could see when Merro and Letalus exited the room, but in the short time it took her to cross the hall her thoughts had moved on and she found herself longing for quiet solitude. Shutting the door behind her she passed up a perch on the foot of the bed (where she had intended to sit and watch for Merro and Letalus) and headed instead to the windowsill. Relishing the warm caress of the sun Sentelle stared blankly out the window.

Caught up in her thoughts Sentelle was oblivious to the opening of the door.

At Letalus' words Sentelle shot up from her seat and instinctively reached for her weapon before realizing that, one, her glaive was in the room across the hall, and two, that it was Letalus who had spoken to her. The second realization made her wish all the more that her glaive was within reach. A sudden pang in her side reminded her what good her glaive had done her last night. Her hand covered the mended wound and she half sat, half fell to a sitting position in the windowsill.

"The trouble I cause...?" Sentelle replied haltingly. She reviewed the events of last night searching for a trouble that she could have been the cause of. No, he wounded me. I paid for his room. I had nothing to do with the lycanthrope entering the tavern. He barged into my room... My room... His room. I woke up in his room. "Did I... I mean I though you..." Sentelle's brow furrowed and she shook her head as if it would help clear the fog that clouded her memory of last night's events.

As Letalus began to dress himself Sentelle turned her gaze back to the window counting on peripheral vision to alert her to danger. She spoke softly, "Even after all I have learned about golems in the years since first I met you I feel as though I know very little about you. You're nothing like what they are; you're more than mere animated clay." Sentelle drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "I think I know why."

"The last thing I remember from last night was you dragging me into your room, and a failed invocation on my part. If that invocation had succeeded I believe it would have revealed something of great interest to us both." Sentelle stood up, "Something that would match up with an item in my belongings across the hall." Sentelle took a step toward the door.

Hmmm.... Tomlin thought as he approached the sorcerer. Maybe I could use him for a bit.

"So, I think we came to an accord last night. Instead of the gold you may, or may not, have.. I propose this, good sir." He said as he pulled off and held up the small bag that clung to his waist. He pulled out several of the ornate jewels, each of them covered in a different Elvish rune. "If you can tell me what each of these runes means, then you owe me no debt. Otherwise, I'll require your help to research them. Sound like a fair deal?" he asked, motioning for the man to sit at the table he just occupied.