Wandering Rogue

That's fine.  I'd imagine people would know about it in the group.  Knock yourself out.

Marcy

The young Marcy sipped daintily from her cup before tossing in a few marshmallows into her cup to heighten the taste of her steaming cocoa that had maliciously scalded her tongue.  Why was she drinking it?  Why, obviously because it was a lovely and delicious drink for any occasion.  It was also very comforting.  She thought about offering some to this Ames man but she was worried that he might of had far too much chocolate already in his life.  Somebody had to worry for his health so why not Marcy?  She listened to Effie go on and on with her silly talk while enjoying the pleasing aroma from her cup.  Effie was a sweet girl but Marcy did worry sometimes that her head was as empty as Mr. Skellypants sometimes.  Who, for his part, was covered by a traveling cloak that cast a shadow across his face making it featureless which was for the best considering his was a face without features.  He rhythmically drummed his bony digits across the table softly.

"Any chance that I could get some time with the victims?  I have a few questions that can really only be answered by them I'd imagine," she took another quick sip and her face twisted into sweet misery.  Delicious cocoa why did it burn her so?

Mr. Skellypants stopped his drumming to make a few oddly dexterous signals with his hands that seemed to convey some deep message to Marcy who nodded quickly.  "Right, of course I'll ask.  So what kind of flowers did this woman deliver?"

Orzo

What tavern is even open right now?  If there is one do they any honey with their drinks?  Probably not.  It's so hard to find anyone that can make a decent cocktail with honey much less one in the middle of a siege.

Orzo had made himself sad.  The people around him talked of drinks of pirate fights or something yet all he could think about were the spicy honey drinks back home that Tatu would make for him.  It was a lovely drink Orzo would spend hours sipping through his curly bear straw on the hot summer evenings.  Or late afternoons.  Mornings too.  There was never a bad time to drink.  Orzo felt a panic course through him as he struggled to remember if he had packed his straw.  He could definitely recall it being out when he was packing right next to his onesie which he had definitely packed.  Yet, Orzo  could not for the life of him recall if he had packed the straw or not.  There was no reason he wouldn't of but the uncertainty of it instilled a sense of dread he could not shake.

Wait, where am I?  Who is this talking?  How did I get here?  Damn pack instincts, why do my feet just follow people without question.  Okay Orzo, this guy is asking a question. Play it cool.  Cool as a bear. 

Orzo grunted and settled deeper into his seat.  

This is good.  Still.  We must have more.

MORS STOP ASKING FOR REZ WHEN IM DEAD