It was Tuesday in Myrken, not usually the most exciting of days. Perhaps a nice day for a meeting like this, though. Glenn always thought he would pinpoint a better time, make a proper anniversary about it. The day they went into Jirai's dreams, perhaps? Or the day good old Vet visited him in Underdark. Or maybe when the tailor poisoned the lake. There were just so many to choose from, but no, here it was, just some random Tuesday.
The old shop was out. Glenn may have given that to Aleksei as a test, or an initiation ritual, or just for the sheer amusing thought of Suede Roschen wandering in and surprising him when he was in the tub, but regardless, it was occupied and therefore completely useless for this little nostalgic exercise. The Dagger was out as well. Glenn's office, absolutely. If there were docks, they would serve quite well, but Myrken had no such things. One of Myrken's shadier bars it was, then, a private booth, a bottle of wine, and endless patience.
The invitation had gone through the usual channels whatever they were. Simple instructions. Come if you want. Don't bring the kid. Don't bring the insane drowess. White flags and all that. For old time's sake. The former mapmaker would wait exactly seven minutes in the booth and then be gone. There was no point waiting longer for someone who did not want to be there, after all.