<br/><br/>I think item uses/day charges have a specific time of day every 24 hours (usually dawn) and aren't refreshed by their possessor resting, but I'll check that.<br/><br/><br/>Aria agreed that using a scroll seemed logical for the reasons Kass gave. Using a map from the book Aria had dug up in the temple library, they teleported to an unobstructed-looking open square - which, fortunately, unlike Luthcheq's, was not presently occupied by an angry crowd.<br/><br/>The intersection wasn't as deserted as one might expect at this hour; Tsurlagol was a city which stirred late, it seemed. Most passing folk had dark clothes drawn about themselves, seemingly in a hurry to be somewhere else and not noticed along the way, especially one who seemed to've noticed Kass's and Aria's sudden appearance.<br/><br/>The different weather was instantly perceptible against Aria's skin: damper air; in fact, it felt, and the cobblestones underfoot looked, like it'd recently rained. The foliage of the courtyard square also indicated a less arid climate, filled with water-hungry flowers and broad-leaved trees which would've parched quickly in Mulhorand.<br/><br/>All about the square where gingerbread-shingled townhouses, faintly illuminated by rows of street lamps which enclosed torches. One corner held a still-lit and -noisy tavern, in which it was but a few minutes' asking about to be directed to the 'Ultros Opera House' the impostor had spoken of.<br/><br/>That venue was apparently along the waterline through which almost all the city's commerce flowed, a series of waterfront warehouses and facing piers where many cargo-ships and a few suspiciously swift-looking vessels were moored. Aria was immediately cast back mentally to Luskan, and had little doubt that contraband and smuggling accounted much of the commerce here. The impostor had even referred to Tsurlagol as a 'pirate city', and the Sea of Fallen Stars it faced held a constellation of islands which earned their appellation, the Pirate Isles.<br/><br/>Past the commercial docks and among highcoin-looking waterfront residences with their own ringing gardens, the opera house seemed like a great wood and thatch-topped ring-shaped place, probably built that way because of the nature of the interior. It filled a square block, with little statue-filled corners at the four corners left upon by the cylindrical shaped wall. On the ocean-facing side the wall was broken by spreading, spilling steps, flanked by corkwood boards with corners of old posters still affixed.<br/><br/>Two dark-haired men stood upon the steps in usher-like uniforms, with dark pants, white ruffled shirts, and dark jackets with gold buttons and trim. Each had long hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and one cupped his palm to cover and protect a lit tobacco pipe against the damp air. Despite the late hour, symphonic music boomed faintly from within the doors behind them.