Still musing to himself over Cymri's 'purring', Darion resumed his seat next to Gwandon. The peculiar man who had interupted their conversation earlier seemed to have disapeared, and Alvarel replaced him. "Are you awake elf?" All he got was a slight nod from Alvarel. "We have discovered the man who stole Cymri's horse." He went on in a softer tone. "He sits at the bar with Menecrow. The Lady would like him followed but not harmed. She feels that there may be more to his story that stealing horses. She would like you and Menecrow to carry out this task. I suggest you begin your duties immediately. You might also want to share your orders with our one eyed friend when he is finished mingling with the man we are hunting." Not giving Alvaren a chance to reply Darion stood and walked up the stairs to his room. It had been a long sleepless night and he needed a bit of rest. Besides, he was not sure if he could just sit and look at the man they were after without spiiling his blood. Perhaps Cymri was right in asigning the task of following the man to these two after all. Once upstairs Darion balanced a clay mug on the door handle, shed all but his underclothes, washed, and climbed into his blankets. His sword propped against the wall by the head of the bed, and his unsheathed dagger under his pillow.