Spike shakes his head as he walks down the stairs, the visions of his meditation replaying in his head.  Things will work out on their own, one way or another.<br/><br/>"Thank you, Vincent," he says, giving a respectful nod to the innkeeper.  "I don't need any breakfast, but I will take a mug of that dreg."  He walks over and sits down at the bar, listening to Vincent's report. "No surprise.  If indeed the guards had been paid off to stay away last night, its not terribly surprising they'd be paid to try to clean up what was left.  Not paid much, if they didn't push.  Why must men's souls be so easily swayed by money, a  guardsman should be better than that..."