<em>  "Thank you,"</em>Fatin manages a weak smile at Pride as she pulls her clothes tightly around herself. She gulps the water greedily, tilting the empty containing back and stubbornly shacking it for the last few drops. She then tosses it to Jalal, who refills it with his own magic, “My last spell from Lady Ninshubur,” he declares solemly, “After tonight, it will be Asmodeus who grants me the divine bounty,” Fatin and Jalal then quietly concult, the woman asking the cleric what she can expect during the ceremony, and the cleric speculating, loathed to admit he doesn't truely know.