The rest of Magnus' night went pretty well. Between the painful-to-drink alcohol and the ladies he was spending time with, he found a good balance that made the hours go by at a rocketing pace. Eventually, it was time to tuck in, so he nabbed his box of equipment from the table he'd sat at before and headed towards the bedrooms. He stumbled across the room, discarding his boots and managing to unbutton his vest and shirt before he just collapsed on a mattress and accepted his fate.<br/><br/>His dreams consisted mostly of nonsensical happenings and things he wouldn't remember when he awoke, for when he did, he was feeling the side-effects of the night pretty strongly. His head was sore, and the light of the morning peeking in through the window's parted curtains felt like fire to the eyes.<br/><br/>"Geh..." He groaned, slowly pushing himself into a seated position on the bed's edge. He held his face, inhaled sharply, and finally let his hands drop into his lap. "Alesia have mercy," He whispered. "And take away this pain." Not so much a serious prayer as a show of displeasure, but he did wonder if a small miracle might aid him. Holding his hand to his face once again, his palm let off a light golden glow as he cast the holy magic on himself. Unfortunately, with no real wounds to heal, it just sort of cleared his head slightly instead of curing his hangover.<br/><br/>He stood up and put his shoes back on, scanning the room for his parents. The two had both headed for the main room, and were enjoying a nice little breakfast of various fruits and teas together. Letting Magnus sleep the hangover off was a simultaneous mercy and lesson to be learned. Alcohol before long journeys wasn't a spectacularly grand idea, and he'd learn it one way or another.<br/><br/>As he too entered the main room, he idly buttoned his shirt up to the point where his stomach was covered, but gave up halfway through and sat down at his parents' table. He leaned over and rested his head in his crossed arms on the tabletop, giving another noise of displeasure.<br/><br/>"Not feeling good, sweetie?" His mother asked teasingly. As she did so, she poured an extra cup of tea and nudged it his way.<br/><br/>"Goddess, no. That ale was death incarnate," He grumbled, returning to a proper seating position. He took the cup given to him and drank it quickly, still leaning on the table. His father, however quietly, gave a small chuckle at Magnus' expense.