<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c4/2e/4a/c42e4a96012522e6906f7e0b22f7c153.jpg)</div><br/><br/><br/>Its late now,  Songbird looks to Hellhound.   She puts her arm in his.  "Master, take your concubine to bed.  Sleep then have me, good idea master?"  She lets slip a yawn then.    Along with a small unlady like belch as she is feeling the effects of the drink.<br/><br/>Meeza<strong>"Aye need to git as does the rest of you.  Its late,  have to clean up."</strong><br/><br/>Snokins<strong>"Good game it was touch and go anyone of us could have won.   Good night folks."</strong><br/><br/>Morty<strong>"Your room is last one it also has a hearth in it friends."</strong><br/><br/>The rest of the patrons are picking up and leaving.   The room is clearing out.   Almost everyone come up to Songbird in complimenting her on her throws.    The truth is there actually complimenting her on giving a great sight to feast on all night.   For the dagger, game is every night.  Unless one is partaking in it, others now ignore it.