"If I wasn't bearing something fragile, Reveller, you'd have gotten socked something good," Dexter said with faux-dignity as he led Solomon out of the room. "And if I were you I'd remember this day the next time you get yourself a hangover."

Corrival didn't even break stride at Ravel's question, though he did glance toward his Administrator. "Tipstaff?"

"I have already written an invoice for Ms Sorrows according to her usual fee and the nature of the job, Grand Mage."

Corrival winced at the title, but then shrugged at Erskine. "There you go. I want to talk to her, too, Tipstaff. So I can actually get some information about my security force."

The last was said pointedly at Solomon, but the ex-Necromancer only smiled. "What was it you were just saying about trust?"

"I'm not much fond of backtalk either."

"You must have hated commanding the Dead Men, then."

With a roll of his eyes and a tiny smirk of satisfaction he knew Wreath wouldn't be able to see, Corrival shoved open the doors to his office and made for his desk. He kept his face turned away so no one else could see the smile either. It wasn't for any reason other than the satisfaction of knowing he had a good group of people to work with. If he had to be Grand Mage, at least there was that.

"Alright." He took a seat, motioning at the others around the room. Guild hadn't liked offering people seats. Corrival's office more resembled a sitting-room than an office. "Report for me. Wreath, you start, you've been in on this from the beginning."

Solomon settled himself down in what was fast becoming his customary armchair, near the desk but off to the side, and began with meeting China in his office.