Sleep came quickly for the denizens of Denerim. In the tavern, the old veteran Valerius could hardly sleep a wink, his armor clattering loudly as he fidgeted through a restless night. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the faces of the men who, for 10 years, had lived with him as if they were family. And now they were no more. Not too far from him, his charge slept, though whether she was getting any REST was debatable. Somewhere in the bar, the barkeep would be finding a place for Dario to sleep off his.... display. Inevitably, Dez would find some place to lay his head for the night, though the chances of that place in Denerim were equally high of being an alley, a pillow, or a prostitute's bosom. And somewhere in the bowels of the city, Syl would be slinking into slumber with the man she was sharing a bed with.<br/><br/>Morning came swiftly, the sun burning away the darkness of the night like fire on silk, the rays of light beamingout from across the Eastern Sea, as if to greet the city itself. Shopkeepers were setting up their wares, laymen going about the business they were hired to do, and in the tavern, one very irritated barkeep was busy cleaning up the events of last night's ruckus- those corpses weren't going to move themselves, Andraste willing.<br/><br/>Valerius sat upright in bed, groaning and pinching his brow, rubbing fatigue from his eyes. The night was unkind lately, and Valerius knew it would soon catch up to him. Pulling his boots on, he groaned as he exited the room, making his way to the front room of the bar. There, he ordered 'room service'- if it could be called that- before stumbling tiredly back to the room, awaiting a tray of food and drink. It wasn't much, he knew- more than a sovereign's worth of food, but the waitress had given him a good deal- but something in the back of his mind told him that a small act of kindness such as this would somewhat help Aimil's emotional state.