Dwalin, Velma’s adoptive Dwarven father, looked up as she called out.  He was standing behind the bar, already chatting with some of Laelith’s earliest risers.  Breakfast was a simple affair of what was essentially cold leftovers from the night before served with bread that had been baked during the night.  He never seemed to sleep much, usually closing up the bar a few hours after the midnight bell, and sleeping for a handful of hours till he got up to open again.  Occasionally if the tavern was empty during the warm day’s he’d doze in a chair behind the bar, but it was always a light sleep and he always came too alert and grumpy.  Then again he was always grumpy, at least on the outside.  Once you got to know the old dwarf, you realized that was just an act and he was actually a kind man who put on a grumpy face.  He also acted like a total lech, but that wasn’t an act for the most part.  Even though his thick fingers didn’t move as fast as a younger man’s, he did seem to love pinching the backsides of any woman who wouldn’t have the guts to slap an old man, and quite a few who did.  Though in her entire life while her father had seemed to have quite a few women who’d expressed interest in letting him use their bosom’s as a pillow for the night, he never seemed to take them up on it.  Oh certainly he’d had women in his bed as Velma had grown up.  But the curious adopted human daughter had snuck a peek in through his bedroom door more than once, and every time she’d seen the usually inebriated girl sleeping in his bed as he dozed in his rocking chair.  So maybe even the lecherous attitude was nothing more than an act.  Then again, when a dwarven man lived to beyond his two hundredth year, he had every right to be eccentric.<br/><br/>Her father looked up, as did the slightly dim human man that worked for him, Jakob.  But the dwarf snorted derisively,<strong>“Pfffaghh.  And maybe I should tell you to use the fountain?  Last time you did we had more customers than this lousy lot of good for nothings.”</strong><br/><br/><strong>“Hey!” </strong>called one of the three men that sat at the bar eating.  But Dwalin just dismissed the man with a wave of a thick hand.<br/><br/><strong>“There’s two buckets of hot on the stove, but they may only be warm by now.  Warmer than the fountain tho girl.  Now get to it an’ stop teasin these lechs.  Don’t you think I can’t take you over my knee if I didn’t want too!”</strong>Dwalin said gruffly, which was of course his default.  He’d raised her as her father as long as she could remember, and had never once spanked her, though he’d threatened too on a near constant basis.<br/><br/>As Velma passed through the tavern to the back, the slow witted Jakob stopped her and held up a piece of paper.  He smiled at her, as he always did, he was always smiling, and handed her the paper.  It was upside down, but that wasn’t unusual.  He had a good memory, and was always pleasant and followed directions well, but he couldn’t read.  “<strong>Miss Thereos sent this for you.”</strong>he said in his quiet slow voice.  Then he moved away, looking for his next task.<br/><br/>It was a simple note, mostly just a list of a few alchemical preparations that the arcane mage wanted.  The elven wizard likely had access to her own alchemical laboratory at the academy, and could probably even get junior wizards to craft such items now that her position there had gained a little momentum.  But Velma suspected that her relationship with Sileanna Kerinni Thereos’s house mate and lover, Ylene had a lot to do with the business that miss Thereos sent her way.<br/><br/>Crafting these supplies would take several hours, the better part of the day if Velma wanted to get it all done immediately.  Fortunately, miss Thereos almost never needed anything right away and Velma knew that she could easily take a week to get it all done, working on one item at a time a little bit each day.  Which was good because she had a long standing order from the half elven Anathitae sisters as well.  Alchemical prophylactics for the men and women that they bedded in their make shift temple.  Before hand draughts for the men, post coitus draughts for the women.  Sometimes it amazed Velma how many they went through, especially since the sisters never needed to take them.  But she supposed that was the way it was with those Shonites.<br/><br/>Dwalin had raised her in the tenets of his own faith, Moradin the all father, but had never pushed such worship on her, letting her choose her own path.  And in the city of Laelith, there was any religious path one could imagine.  The heavily cosmopolitan city saw races of every type and every faith.  Sometimes there was tension, but most people stayed at least civil, usually.<br/><br/>It was during Velma’s bath however, as she thought about all of this that her father knocked on the door.<strong>“GIRL!” </strong>he cried loudly through the closed door.<strong>“There’s a runner here.  He says that Commander Rekterinias wants you.  Immediately.  Says that she said time is of the essence.”</strong><br/>