One laborious journey later, Arkhah had deposited the ruined couch in his own rooms, shoving it against a wall amidst the existing clutter to be dealt with (and likely torn apart for bedding) later. For now, he had a dinner to oversee.<br/><br/>Upon reaching Dining Room 7B, he re-adopted his natural skin coloration, folding the chameleoline cloak to one side and ascending the staircase to the balcony, where he took up his typical post in a shadowy corner overlooking Cortez's chair. The rogue trader's other armsmen recognized him, naturally, and made no effort to block his passage - those who would otherwise be intolerant of his presence were also cowed by his singificantly superior martial prowess, most of the rest affording him at least grudging respect when it came to keeping their lord intact to hand out their wages. A formal dinner such as this was no place for him, but he would be on watch for anything untoward.