<strong>Time</strong>: Several days after Temple-Go-Boom<br/><strong>Location</strong>: The Demon City, apartments of Rhikki-Annha Vase-Weaver<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Sanger<br/><br/>It's been a long, long several days.<br/><br/>Even with as many celebrated personalities as exist within the Demon City, the unexpected arrival of a half-dozen strangers and a set of peons has caused quite a stir.  There have been... inquisitive eyes and hungry sorts.  A handful of nameless varazslany acting as a pack?  A curiosity, but not something that stirs up ripples.  Exalts?  That's another thing entirely.  The owner of the store below the apartments has managed to profit off this to some extent as curious peons, citizens, and the occasional Second-Circle soul have been browsing her glassware as a pretense to get closer, and the owner knows how to drive a hard bargain to make it worth her time.<br/><br/>It's after the shoppe's closing hours, such as time is measured in Malfeas by the synchronized screams of doomed demons, which means that the guests in Rhikki-Annha's building are free from the burden of making sure no spies, thieves, or worse try to infiltrate.  Whatever Sanger has been doing to occupy himself, he finds his attention briefly drawn to the tap-tap-tap of his host's many legs along the floor; Rhikki-Annha waits to be acknowledged before her body bobs downwards, a graceful sort of curtsey performed by a well-heeled spider whose translucent legs can stretch to a diameter of twelve feet.<em>"You had wished to be notified when your fallen companion had regained consciousness, Lord Sanger?"<em> she inquires, voice scratchy like a broom against a stone floor.  <em>"Please, make haste.  She was not pleased to see me, and I do not know if your servants will be able to convince her to stand down before she destroys something else precious to me."</em></em></em>