<br/><hr/><strong>Location</strong>Don't Fall Inn common room<br/><strong>Tagging </strong>Alice and others<br/><strong>Content </strong>Earnest gushing<br/><br/><hr/>After Mara is heading up the stairs, Gretla makes her way up from the cellar and back into the common room. As she saw the ring being displayed, she approached. "Wow! Honey, ya shouldn'a be flashin’ off a flash bit like that. Not ‘roun here, anyways.” Before Alice has much chance to follow up on the advice, however, she adds conspiratorially, “Who gave it to ya?” Gretla is wide eyed as she holds her hands in front of her while looking down at both the signet ring and, (perhaps not so) incidentally, at Alice’s décolletage teasing another peek.<br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><strong>Location</strong>Don't Fall Inn 3<sup>rd</sup>floor hall<br/><strong>Tagging </strong>Mara<br/><strong>Content </strong>More creeper<br/><br/><hr/>Mara had no way to see his pride swell as she stood back up, fire still in her belly as she started fighting back, poking him in a chest she was just tall enough to look down at. Gretch looked at the blue glow growing on Mara’s hand as it illuminated his scar luridly.<br/><br/>His hand comes up under her chin and raises her face to look at his. “Nae. Ya got kicked ‘cause you chose a hole where little miss knickers liked ta get ‘ers filled. Too obvious. If’n she didn’a fin’ it, ‘nother guard would’a ‘ventually. Ya wanna play dat game, ya needs t’get smarter, or yer always gonna be the one what gets kicked ‘n the highborn bint gets to keep bint’n.<br/><br/>“Ya lost yer stash, the one you done made. The stash what’s gonna keep ya off’a da street ‘n outta Black Frankie’s place,” he mentions a rougher saloon and brothel up the road, it’s rooms already rented, usually long term and on credit. “Whatcha gon’ do ‘bout it?”<br/>