Neollo twitches her fingers and the ribbon swiftly unties itself.  She moves her stein and flattens the scroll against the table.  

She scoffs and looks away almost immediately.  After a few moments her brow creases, like she's performing an intensive mental calculation.  

Then she looks back and studies the scroll with renewed interest.  She tilts her head this way and that, and bends the thing towards her in a convex shape, as if trying to make certain of the embossed marks pop off the parchment.

After a pause, she begins to laugh.  

The sound is high in pitch, and decidedly less dignified than her previous speaking voice.

Her companions turn to look at her in unison. 

“What is it?” says Grannik.

“Oh, we are so very, very fucked,” she says, and giggles.

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