<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Sorry it took me so long to reply. I was busy during the weekend... usually I should be able to reply more promptly. Also I'm not really sure what GP value to assign to a laptop, but considering Morgan's profession I assume she would have one.</div></div></div><br/><br/>Within the coffee shop, seated in a far corner was a human woman who seemed to have sought out the furthest table from any of the other patrons, yet nonetheless exuded an exotic 'oddness' that drew some attention, not unlike the slightly ominous half-orc gentleman sauntering up to the counter. Dressed in a practical white coat with black trim and a sleek, vaguely futuristic PVC top, she seemed engrossed with her work. The dark purple laptop computer sitting in front of her, adorned with colorful yellow star-shaped stickers, produced a continuous rhythm of soft clicks as her fingers worked at the keys. On the table in front of her, an assortment of empty coffee cups, pocket change, and packets of non-dairy creamer had been arranged into some kind of symmetrical circular formation. Every few minutes, the woman carefully adjusted her little constellation with the nudge of a finger.<br/><br/>Morgan's busy fingers put the finishing touches on her latest online editorial.<span style="font-style: italic">...And so, when considering all the available evidence, the inescapable conclusion is that the vital energy of our universe is being drained faster than any of us could have expected. This is not merely a concern to us living beings, but to the fabric of the universe itself. I predict that not only will the mental and physical health of Lumen's population take a turn for the worse, but the laws of physics themselves might begin to fray. Already we have heard voices making the preposterous claim that the laws of the universe are somehow governed by consensus or faith, rather than having been laid down at the beginning of time along with the cosmic firmament. Action must be taken; the high-council has sat on their hands for too long...</span><br/><br/>With that, Morgan paused and leaned back. She couldn't afford to be too brazen about what exactly she was advocating, not yet. Ahh well, she was tiring of this anyway... she decided she'd think up a suitable ending later and folded the laptop down, adjourning to the counter for another cup of decaf. Her manner of moving was strange yet graceful, slow and even to an almost preternatural degree. Arriving before the elderly half-orc, Morgan proceeded to subject the long-suffering barista to another round of her peculiar rambling while placing her order. "We take so much for granted, you know. This clean and comfortable modern world seems so stable, but that is an illusion. We all live upon the precipice of chaos. I slide a few copper-alloy coins of arbitrary value to you," Morgan said as she placed a handful of coins on the counter, "and you work that humble yet marvelous device behind you. A few moments later and a fresh cup of coffee is extruded, as if by magic. Machines are so clean and reliable, yet they depend upon the flawless functioning of a far grander mechanism, a universal order in which we all must play our part. What if the copper wiring within acted as in insulator instead of a conductor? What if heating coffee beans produced sulfuric acid instead of caffeine? Ludicrous? Yes, but the order we depend upon is more fragile than you know. If only I could make them understand..."<br/><br/>The barista blinked. "So, another vente cafe latte, decaf?"<br/><br/>Morgan nodded. "Yeah." Once the beverage was in her hand, she went back to her seat, only then noticing some of the newcomers that had arrived. She tensed slightly, though she didn't show it. Probably just drifters, but a couple of them looked like potential combatants. She couldn't rule out the possibility that they were after her, or one of her fellow predators in town. She decided to keep an eye on them.