Korsarro blearily opens his eyes, finding that the ground is not nearly as comfortable or warm as it had been the night before. He groans loudly, gathering some curious glances from the Guards and Monks who had not grown used to the little Tanners usual sleeping habits. He sat up slowly, his head and eyes shouting at him to lay back down, forcing pain through his system. He reminded himself to aim for the carpets if he had to puke. Always the carpets. They could be cleaned. He forced himself to climb upon the chair he had fallen from less than a day before and found a fresh tankard sitting in front of him. Somebody had learned his habits well, he would have to investigate and discover who later so they could be properly thanks. With more drinking. He downed the tankard in several large gulps, pulling it from his now somewhat soaked face and feeling better already. He wiped his face on the back of his hand and decided that he should bathe, the smell from yesterdays events hitting him harder than Vernasus had with Zatos arm, which, now that he remembered, he scooped up from the dark corner. He decided to move to his Tannery, hoping that the garden was less... ruined now.