After sailing and riding nearly nonstop, Celes finally arrived home, tired, but cheered at the sight.  She knew the area well enough to avoid the busiest streets, and found her way to the manor without incident.  It was rather deserted outside, with fewer staff and servants than when she was a child.  Still, she recognized those that remained and could only smile warmly at her little homecoming, however brief she expected it to be.  She vaguely wondered if that pretty young chambermaid she grew up with was still around.  A nostalgic romp in the laundry would be a nice sendoff.<br/><br/>Making her way to the study, she first rushed to hug her father, and to support him.  It was hard to see him like this, a bit more creaky each year, despite her occasional bout of homesickness.  After he was back to his chair, she hung her cloak on a hook.  Considering whatever news he had for her, and all that they could recount about the last six months besides, she realized she would probably be in counsel with him for a while this morning.  And considering it would only grow warmer as the day progressed, she decided to remove the hard mail that hugged her breasts and hips.  With just her riding boots and some simple jewelry (not wanting to attract attention), she sat nude across from her father.<br/><br/>"Well, I made no delays, considering the tone of the letter and the wind-ship to carry me home.  But very well, the campaign goes well.  We've not only defended Barvia and the area from raids, but managed to gather and quash a large number of the orcish barbarians of a 'Garak Onetusk.'  With him dead, and the Fist cleaning up the remains, it should be quite a while before anyone's able to gather strength to threaten our lands again.