(ooc: IT CAN'T BE DONE! It'll take 15 minutes to bake all the pop-tarts! Tell your wife that this is a very special night for you and your concubine and you need more than 15 minutes!
)
~Finished moving the tables and chairs, she sprints up the stairs and returns with a roll of blue cloth. She spreads it across the middle of the tavern, grumbling at the mass excess. She pulled out her sword and hacked off a new end. She looked at the remaining cloth in her hands.
What to do what to do! Looking up at the roof she smiled.~ "That's the ticket!" ~She clammored up onto the counter, tossing the navy cloth over the support beams in a weaving pattern. Soon there was a sort of draped overhang where the ceremony would take place. She smiled in satisfaction.~ "Right! Now what..."