On the same square as the Temple of Pan, The Bardic College stood, as it had for many yahren. A small doorway off the street led into a brightly lit antechamber dominated by a dark wooden desk. Behind the desk several doors opened into other parts of the college. The air of the chamber was scented with the fragrance of lavender, and something a bit sweeter, a light citrus smell of sorts. The walls were hung with a variety of tapestries, most depicting bards in various poses, but some showed battles of the past and other glorious events. The sound of the feet of those entering was muffled by the deep pile of the rug throw over the cold flagstone floor.
Leon felt lively this morningtide, despite a night spent with little sleep; but then, this was not unsual for the insomniac musician, and he had spent much of his wakeful gravetide working on his music. There was always something very inspiring about the dead of night, and a couple of marks rest just before dawn had seemed plenty. Come morningtide, and as the rest of the world had begun to awake, Crowley had set out to run a few important errands early.
He had had little trouble locating the College, as conveniently it was located very close to the Temple of Pan, a place he visited as frequently as he could for it's shelter, spiritual comfort, and wonderful acoustics. The College itself would hopefully be able to provide more of what he desired - and after yesterday's meeting with the Baroness, Leon desired several musicians of the highest quality for practice and, later, performance in front of what promised to be some of the Citadel's best and brightest (or, at least, richest and most powerful). Rose had offered to pay for the musicians herself, which left Leon with the glorious opportunity to interview and work with only the best - this happy circumstance found him in a most cheerful mood.
Arriving in the foyer of the College, Leon cut a most presentable figure, his impossible standards of personal grooming leading to a most fastidious preparation in the early hours of this morningtide. He smiled at the desk clark in his most charming fashion, and waited to be addressed.