The Dreamwalker

It's been far too long since his first consultation with Naugus. Viatorus should have gotten back to the mage long before now, but as with most things in the Nexus, it hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd hoped. Between personal interruptions, seasonal distractions, and wrestling with what to do with his knowledge, the few days he'd asked for had turned into months. Not how he'd hoped for it to go, but in this case Naugus' exceedingly low expectations of him work in his favour.

When he arrives at Naugus' door he's adjusted the strap of his leather satchel countless times, straightened his tweed jacket several more, and hesitated over whether or not he's forgotten something. Anything at all. The strict eye of his high heeled shadow keeps him in check. Isidor insisted on accompanying him in this case. Too much possibility of trouble, she'd said. Something she couldn't happily allow Lyall to take care of.

With the weight of the forthcoming debriefing doubled, Viatorus knocks on the door and shuffles on the spot. "Naugus? It's Viatorus."

As with most things Viatorus does, the arrangements for tea had been worked through carefully. He'd made sure he had everything he could possibly need, and even sourced a nearby bakery for any dire emergencies that might arise. Naturally, once all his plans had been made and everything put in order, his anxious jittering had nothing to focus on except getting ready and picking up Verity.

He'd made an attempt to tidy up his hair and wear a nice shirt- but not too nice. This socialising business was a tricky thing. Now all he had to was meet up with Verity. Naugus' tower was the sensible place to agree to meet. It was easy enough to locate and Verity was there anyway. So, after briefly stopping to pet the chaos, he'll head to the tower door and, if she's not outside, he'll knock.