Dyra has finished writing her reply but Chief Sull has not. 

Lusilla collects Dyra's reply and wanders over to Chief Sull. 

"Would it help if I took dictation?" she offers. 

"Hm...yesh, that would probably make this go fashter..." he says, with an air of perhaps covering something. 

Fortunately, Lusilla does not perceive this. It still takes a while--Chief Sull still hems and haws a bit over what exactly to say--but before too horribly long she has his missive, too, and then she can take his letter and Dyra's letter and the vegetables and make her way back to the Defender's Heart, along a path of intermediate destinations sufficiently different than the one she took on the way out that if any demons decided to stake out her original appearance points for an ambush, they will fail. 

And then she is back at the Defender's Heart! She will deliver the vegetables to Gemyl Hawkes, first, because they are sort of bulky, and then she will deliver Chief Sull's response to Irabeth and Dyra's response to Feducia Rathimus. 

Irabeth isn't ignoring Chief Sull's reply, it's going in her to-deal-with stack, but her to-deal-with stack is pretty high and the letter isn't at the top of it. 

Having, like, met, the man, Lusilla is fairly confident that he won't be offended if he finds out about this. 

Next she should...hm. 

Hmmmmm. 

Lusilla is a bit at loose ends, here. 

She seeks out Anevia. 

"You've been keeping busy, huh?" 

Lusilla half-shrugs. "I mean, I'm not going to just sit in a corner and stare at a wall." 

Snort. "I wouldn't expect that from you of all people, no." 

"...I guess. It feels like it's been a lot longer than a day since...since the festival." 

"Not gonna argue with that. I think probably tomorrow Beth will have some things for you to do, out and about in the city. I'm sure there's a lot you could get done with just--'just'--unlimited Teleport or Dimension Door or whatever it is you can do, exactly, but I don't think any of us have ever really considered the possibilities, because none of us have ever expected that to be a thing that happens." 

"Dimension Door?" 

"It's a teleportation spell that's smaller than Teleport. I don't know as much about it since, unlike Teleport, it isn't often used for large-scale logistics." 

"That makes sense. So, is--Irabeth assigning us tasks--how things are going to work?" 

"I mean, I'm sure she'd be unhappy with you if she asked you to do something and you decided to just not without a good reason, but, well. I'm sure there's a lot going on in the city that's going to be more efficient, to say the least, to handle as it gets found out about, instead of reporting back to Irabeth and asking her what to do about it. Not just because of the time to report back--which part I'm sure your more unusual abilities would be very helpful with--but because she's busy. I'm not saying don't report back on what happens, but please feel free to take the initiative on anything that's going to help." 

"That makes sense. Can you tell me about kinds of things she might be going to ask me to do tomorrow, or things she might not bother to ask me to do that I could do anyway? Not so I can go out and do them tonight--" she glances out one of the tavern's windows; it's been a long day, but the sun is finally creeping down over the horizon, "--I do, in fact, have to sleep." Which is good, honestly, because if she didn't have to sleep it would be sort of questionable if she could justify doing so, and then she couldn't visit her mother's dreams to make sure she and her brother were okay and let them know she was okay and where she was and stuff. "But it would be good to be able to start thinking about these things sooner rather than later." 

Anevia nods. 

"Well, it would be really nice to have some idea how to fix whatever Minagho's doing to the Wardstone. Which, one, keep an eye out of course, but two, there is one lead we have. There was an old elf, called himself the Storyteller, who thought there was something wrong with the Wardstone and wanted to go in and see it. Hulrun thought it was obvious nonsense, of course, but at this point it seems like he might have known something. Heaven knows if he's still alive at this point, of course, but Staunton might have an idea of where he might be if he is." 

Lusilla is starting to wonder if this Hulrun fellow who removed the weapons from her stretcher is more than just a simple city guard, if it matters what he thought. Well, it's too late for it to matter much now; they just have to clean up what's left as best they can. 

"Okay. Is there anywhere else I could find out anything about the Wardstone?" 

"I'd suggest talking to Aravashnial, if he hadn't died so horribly..." 

"Aravashnial?" 

"You remember the guy whose body Camellia was with when we found her? I managed to recognize him, if only barely. Elven wizard, a little stuck-up, but he didn't deserve that. He used to hang out at the Blackwing Library a lot." 

"Aha." Lusilla adds "Blackwing Library" to her mental list of notable locations with more than a little excitement. She's heard of libraries; vast treasure troves of books that make the circulating laundry wizard's collection of volumes look like a puddle beside the great Lake of Mists and Veils. The many eyes she doesn't have in this form itch with the desire to behold that many books in one place. 

"I'm guessing you read the cultist dispatch before handing it over." 

"Should I not have?"