The afternoon sun glared hotly down over the city from its perch in the western sky. While the brilliance was distracting as Msaka crossed the gate plaza, the shady streets prevented it from being a bother for most of the trip.

Emerging into the western plaza, he discovered that much of it had been taken over by another exhibition. He halted and peered towards the exhibitions that comprised the show. Unlike the previous time, there didn't seem to be any duels going on. Rather, the contestants seemed to be engaging in tests of agility and speed, from juggling lit torches to attempting to cross a narrow rope strung between two poles to swinging about upon sets of bars.

After observing the proceedings for a few moments, Msaka quickly realized that the people involved looked more like they were trained performers, given their showy, even garish clothing and the obvious finesse. While some of the feats being performed looked nearly impossible to accomplish naturally, Msaka sensed no magic about the people involved in the show.

"How long have they trained to be able to do such things?" he wondered, mildly impressed by the level of skill they had achieved. "It is too bad that any of these things could be done much more easily with the right magic, but I suppose they have no choice, given the restrictions here..." Turning his attention away from the show, he walked over to the Adventuer's Guild and pushed the doors open.

Stepping inside, he glanced at the familiar surroundings, noting that there had been no obvious changes since his last visit. No one was about, which Msaka considered a bit of a relief; perhaps he'd be able to rest undisturbed for a while after all.

He quickly snatched up one of the loose cushions and strode over to the corner next to the bookshelf, setting it down against the wall. That done, he lay down on his back upon the floor, resting his head on the pillow. It wasn't a particularly comfortable arrangement, but he had endured worse. Closing his eyes, he laced his fingers together and rested his hands on his belly, doing his best to ignore the noise that was filtering in through the windows from the plaza as he let his thoughts wander.

He was startled awake by a thumping sound and accompanying vibration. Blinking as he sat bolt upright, he looked around as he forced himself to full alertness. As best as he could tell, though, nothing in the room seemed out of place... He glanced towards the doors, concluding that someone must have either banged against them or pulled them shut rather forcefully.

He took a deep breath as he lay back down, hoping to slow the sudden, heavy pounding of his heart. "At least it was only a false alarm, and not another attack," he grumbled, resuming his former posture and closing his eyes again.

A moment later, his eyes snapped open again as he realized there wasn't any noise coming through the windows. He peered up at the closest one, and was surprised to see that the sky outside was dark. "Has it been that long already?" he wondered, frowning. He certainly didn't feel that well rested, but perhaps the unconventional location he'd chosen was responsible for that. With a sigh, he sat back up, wondering what to do next. Going back to sleep didn't seem wise, since he'd end up awake half the night, yet it was probably a bad time to try making inquiries about travelling to Silmaria as well...

Looking over at the bookshelf, he spotted a few new tomes lying upon its shelves. With a grunt, he leaned over and snatched the nearest one. It was a thick, leather bound book, but its worn looking covers were unmarked, leaving its contents a mystery. Hoping that it would be at least mildly interesting, he lay down again and rested the book on his chest. Cracking open the covers, he started scanning the words within.

The work proved to be a somewhat fanciful collection of stories and descriptions of various places the author purported to have visited. While some of the tales sounded at least vaguely plausible, others, such as his description of the legendary Thirteenth Vault, the mysterious Land of Lost Socks, or the infamous Wooden Portal of Halfwittenburg, were simply too bizarre for Msaka to take seriously. While he eventually became convinced that the entire book was some kind of joke on the part of the author, it nonetheless proved to be an entertaining diversion, and it was nearly two hours later that Msaka finally stood and returned it to the shelf.

"Curious," he thought as he scanned the room. "The guildmaster hasn't shown himself the entire time I was reading. I wonder if he's gone off somewhere to climb things?"

Shrugging, he paced over to the doors and left the guild, emerging back into the now empty and darkened plaza. The moon was rising high into the sky, a further indication of just how long he'd spent asleep.

"Well, now that I've had a nap, I have enough energy to return to the inn and sleep properly," he thought, smiling ever so slightly at the irony. Turning towards the southern exit, he strode off towards the inn. With any luck, it would still be serving dinner despite the late hour.