Rach turned her attention to the other redhead as she asked her question, but paused briefly. It hadn't skipped her notice that the woman wore dragonskin armour, and Chellagosa was on edge, stirring anxiously.
Scratching absently at the tattoo-like golden dragon at her neck, Rachel smiled and lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "It's not so much the keys fit all locks. The Inn can have a life of its own, a sense of mischief I guess. There's no inherent malice, it was more a warning about a spell gone awry. The wards here keep you safe."
The last statement was aimed more toward the dragon within than Zoroka.
She turned briefly to Va'Larin with a smile. "Misfired protection spell by the looks of it. That or someone read way too much Pratchett."
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