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Still, no attacker materializes from the darkness. You start to look for a lamp, then you remember you now have a pocket lantern. Once you get it ablaze, you start the search. It takes frustratingly long, but eventually you are satisfied that there is no one besides you in the Belfry. Still on edge, you return to the main room and wait for the oil to completely cook off. That at least, does not take long. As the jug starts to waver and settle down, you take it in hand, and you ease it down to the floor.
You light some olive oil lamps, and then grab one of the emmerloaves you bought the other day. But when you look at the rock hard bread you cannot muster the energy to gnaw at it at the moment. So instead, you stare at the jug. The fat lump of ugly green glass. You should be celebrating – happy at the very least. So why aren’t you? What is wrong?
… On second thought, was isn’t wrong?
The fear is gone, at least for now, but all that has replaced it is exhaustion. More than anything else, you want to fall asleep, but before you do that you should really take a bath. Between the shit, smoke, sludge, and salt you are an absolute mess. You grab two of the blood tubs of water and haul them, one under each arm over into the corner where the tub sits. You then head into your room, and finally you can properly unencumber yourself. You fling the great coat from your shoulders, only then realizing just how hot and sweaty you really are. Mmph. A bath is <span class="mu-i">definitely</span> needed, especially if you are going to be out in polite society tomorrow to pick up your dresses, and possibly to investigate Aldoin’s house.
Moving along, you set the remains of your dress, still sinched together right next to the pillowcases and loose coins from the Euthyphro knock-down. The satchel ends up right next to you bedroll. You doubt that you will have time to read the books any time soon, but the idea of keeping your new books by your bed just feels right, somehow. The duck-foot and its belt also go by your bed, right next to the uncommonly broad smallsword. Your knives join them, and after some serious consideration, you also put your wand down next to them as well. After you are done wincing from the removal of the socket, you pluck out the viable fuel modules, keeping the partially depleted and Strange ones still in your pocket-jerkin … which comes off next. Once you have set that aside, as to not mix it in with the rest of your clothes, you finish stripping down.
The feeling of getting out of those tight breeches is best you have felt all night … at least until you take the boots off. It feels so good that you actually feel a little lightheaded. You have to keep the stockings on however, otherwise your footfalls would leave Strangeness behind. Before you go to take your bath, you temporarily suppress Strange-Staining, so you can properly get a look at your clothes, as their condition is hard to make out under all of the shifting Stains.
