After an...interesting encounter, it's dark where Martel is and late in Valdis, too. Two days, and he should go home; he will, soon. He has somewhere else to stop before he does, though, and after he starts to walk away from the fire he changes course to a place in the nexus that knows him from before he had the castle.

He rinses off the dust, the smoke, the ink and the sweat the best he can manage in a hurry; gaunt and still tired, but less hollowed out, and clean. He shaves, pulls his hair back and smoothes a new shirt as he leaves, only the barest twist of his lips to give any indication of his opinion of the damn pinpoints before he vanishes out of the nexus.