Iakovos rushes into the Magnaura, perspiration on his brow, his clothes slightly disheveled. He spies Makedonios and Vissarionas at the Order's table and rushes over to them and takes a seat. "I'm am terribly sorry M'lord Makedonios, I had worn myself ragged last night reading. I am afraid we we will have to acquire more candles." Iakovos finally takes a breath, and takes a look around him. "I have not missed anything of importance, have I?"