<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">The next morning</span></span></div><br/><br/>As the morning came, Falone's cloudy sky allowed only thin rays of sunlight to the ground below. The air held a chill, not too harsh, but enough to affect any non-natives quite noticeably. Meagre amounts of light filled the rooms of the inn that hadn't had their shutters closed, a sure sign that the sun was up and it was time to get moving. Magnus was awoken around six in the morning, a bit before the rest of the building was in its fully busy morning hours. Instead of getting right up, he just rolled around for about ten minutes, groaning wordless complaints at the ray of sunshine that kept shining in his face through the slightly-cracked curtains.<br/><br/>Eventually, he decided he couldn't defeat the sun by whining at it, so he rolled over to the edge of his bed and sat up, rolling his neck and shoulders. He then proceeded to run a hand over his hair, and the feeling of his skin reminded him that he was now in desperate need of cleanliness. A scan of the room to locate his box of saved belongings was taken, and after both setting out a fresh set of clothing and gathering that which he had on the previous day, he went to the room's connected shower room. Aqueducts and piping allowed for luxuries of the sort in bigger cities, though he soon learned that the water was very cold. It did a great job at waking him up properly, but he did so wish that whoever came up with the idea of water pipes had figured out a way to warm them up before dumping it on his head.<br/><br/>Rushing to clean himself before the cold overtook him, Magnus cleaned and dried himself off, then dressed up in the new outfit he'd laid out. It was pretty much identical to his others, consisting of a white shirt, blue vest, black boots and breeches, and his cloak remained part of it due to the weather. He added those gloves from the forge, after giving them a cleaning as well. His armour was waiting for him on the far table in the room, as well as his weaponry and shield. Quite the nice-looking setup. Placing his hand on the helmet, he felt an odd sensation coming off the metal. Must have been those enchantments Sheoldred was talking about before. He'd have to remember to ask what they did, as he hadn't actually witnessed the application of magic to the suit.<br/><br/>Instead of putting everything away, he decided to get dressed in it, as the group would be on the road soon and he'd prefer to be prepared for any mishaps along the way. It took some time to get all the plates strapped on properly, but his flexibility paid off and he was fully armoured (sans helmet) soon enough. His hammer was strapped onto his back, his sword at his hip, and his shield to the belt that crossed his brigandine. Everything felt a bit more snug, but in a good way. His motions were even more fluid, and the distribution of weight was so good that he hardly felt like he was wearing anything.<br/><br/>By the time he got out of the room and went downstairs, an hour or so had passed. The atmosphere of the inn was livening up, many of the tenants down in the lobby for breakfast. Magnus saw his parents at a table and made his way over to them, setting his helmet down atop it. "Good morning," He greeted, taking a seat next to his father. The old man had an obnoxious grin on his face, and after a few moments of silence, Magnus questioned it. "What? Did I miss something?"<br/><br/>"Not at all, boy." Looking away, Sigurd took a sip of tea, leaving his son to wonder what the smile was for. He waited until Magnus had poured himself a cup as well, and once he started to take a drink, continued. "So, how was your night?" He asked with a nudge to his arm.<br/><br/>Magnus coughed halfway through a drink. That alone was enough to make the elder chuckle to himself, but Magnus' verbal response only made it better. "Oh, it was, um. You know, restful."<br/><br/>"Didn't sound like you were getting much rest," Sigurd quipped. "These walls aren't as thick as they should be."<br/><br/>The colour drained from Magnus' face, and he clasped a hand over his eyes. "Oh my<span style="font-style: italic">god,"</span>He whispered, sounding absolutely defeated. He felt another nudge against his arm, and after a few of them, he began to respond with nudges of his own. The two eventually ended up shoulder-to-shoulder, playfully pushing against each other while delivering weak strikes aimed towards the other's sides. Magnus' mother just looked on at the two, sighing and rolling her eyes at the display.