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Riptide hated evenings like this; evenings where everything is perfectly quiet, everything is in order, nothing is amiss… and he still can’t sleep. He usually blames it on the days he spent touring, where he’d be up late into the evenings partying with the band and fans, and then waking up early the next morning to make it to the next venue. But it’s been years since then, one would think he’d have adjusted by now.
Rather than lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, Riptide decides that he may as well get up and do something. Maybe walking the halls of the ministry will soothe him enough to get some sleep, at the very least, it will give him something to do.
And so, Riptide gets redressed, and exits his rather large bedroom; one of the many perks of being a tenured member of the clergy, his quarters are a bit larger and more lavish. He’s sure to be quiet when leaving the Ghoul’s Den, not wanting to wake anyone, and begins walking the empty halls of the ministry, only lit by the moonlight filtering in through the stained glass windows.
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