Recent events being what they have been, the insanity experienced in Castille since his arrival....and his change weighed on his conscience. Michael sat alone in his room, well alone unless you count the bottles of alcohol (whether empty or not). After finishing off another bottle...or three, Michael stood up and squared himself away. For once, the Knight was not only fully dressed, but dressed quite well...Dressed as a proper Noble. His hair was tied back, a single braid pulled from his right temple over and behind his ear. With purpose, a dusty bottle of libation and a quick step, he headed out to find one of his Fellow Inish....one that deserved an explanation.
As he arrived outside their door, he took a deep breath and knocked -
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On the door of Maili of Inismore.