* CATACOMBS *<br/><br/>Myrine saunters down the halls under the Cellar's tavern - great, gnarled tunnels that seep cold and crawl with torchlight over sagging brick.  She slows to let Galla catch up.  For a time, Galla follows the sway of her oiled rump, the swish of her leopard skin skirt, and soundless teak wood skin, rolling through the dim.<br/><br/>Then she turns into a side chamber.  It is decorated with North African tapestries - great geometric works showing fearsome animals and warped gods - the floor covered with skins in a warm, perfumed mound.<br/><br/>Myrine slides atop it, holding Galla in her fierce gaze.  She gathers a gold pitcher of watered wine and pours a single grail of it - the large bowl, covered with lions and Amazons, filling to its brink.<br/><br/>She lifts this to Galla, holding it directly before her capacious breasts, staring at her over the rim.<br/><br/>"I would never leave you, sister.  That is why you are here with me."<br/><br/><br/>* TAVERN *<br/><br/>Commotion is heard outside as the servants march up the path toward the entrance.  A fierce debate over whether the tavern needs more tapestries is being shouted out between Leo, Marissa and Verona.  The details go, mercifully, unheard for now.<br/><br/>Catulus considers Argentum's point after giving Sibyl's hand an affectionate brush.  Then his eyes shift to Sthenae.<br/><br/>"Sthenae, dear - do you mind being carried on a litter like royalty?"  He smiles subtly, then nods to Argentum.  "I concur, sir - I believe you should be in the cargo, Sthenae in a covered litter.<br/><br/>"Any preference on type of imagined cargo, or manpower?"