Chapter Four: The Manifest of the Harikan Squall

It's mostly just an easter egg, I wouldn't fault anyone for missing it...

"Ah, so that's how you came into the city? Clever. I'm not sure that old beast has any faithful left, it's not clear that the remnants of that house understand their own family history. At any rate, they have been kind enough to not produce heirs, and I look forward to the day when Hazard may claim title over their decrepit manse and stop up that tunnel once and for good."

A young man in a black tunic and a white sash comes down the path from the keep, a bundle of scrolls tucked under his arm. He waits a respectful distance away, and Chorcarz acknowledges him with a glance.

"My affairs of business and state have tracked me down, I'm afraid. You may linger as long as you need, and young Zora is invited to take up residence here for as long as is required for her safety. Rolon will attend you. Is there anything else any of you would have of me before I take leave of you?"

Chorcarz bites off half a pastry, peers at the other half. "Sheep's cheese. Those little black forest mushrooms, whatever they're called. And of course, Haferan spices." He stands up. "Rolon, fetch Makis Meti and inform him that he will serve as a guide and escort to our guests here while they traverse the city. Reimbursement of salary won't be necessary, of course. Oh, and when they leave the grounds, have them go through the Skink's Door."

"Yes, sir."

Chorcarz turns to Martjan. "I will send for Bautulo, he will accompany you to meet with the District Captain to clear up the matter of...whatever it is that happened at the Trading Company today. Bautulo's presence should be all you need to author whatever version of events and outcome you wish them to put into the official record."

Martjan rolls her eyes. "Bautulo is a pig."

"Bautulo is the best jurisconsult in Hazard."

"I know, I know. I'm grateful, believe me."

Chorcarz looks at Leth. "We can sweep a single incident under the rug easily enough, but I cannot vouchsafe you to wreak havoc in the city with impunity. If the Crown cult confronts you again, try to maintain a posture for yourselves as innocent travelers undeservedly set upon by fanatics. Seek to involve the city guard or other authorities. If one of the cultists can be taken into custody, I will intervene to have him questioned."

Chorcarz and Rolon head up the path toward the keep.

Chorcarz seemed to want to check in with that scroll-bearing messenger in a hurry. Certainly, he is a man with many irons in many fires, so any number of things could be demanding his attention right now.

"It's a messenger from the Trigon. He's carrying daily reports on the state of the city, its finances, its neighbors, it's dark secrets, what-have-you." She watches Chorcarz confer with the messenger, take one of the scrolls, and read it as he ascends to the keep. "If there's anything in there that needs to be dealt with, he'll throw a feast with his nephew's father's family, and in between bouts of debauchery they'll come to some sort of agreement about what's to be done, and then, wouldn't you know, that will turn out to be exactly the advice the gods whisper to little nephew the next day. And that, my dears, is how you run a city of three hundred thousand people."

"That won't be necessary, Domarc. The idea here is that when they see Bautulo, they'll know that getting to the bottom of this will be more trouble than it's worth. I'd rather you stayed with Zora's friends. I'm sure the guide Chorcarz will provide is trustworthy, but...I think it's best if he's not the only one familiar with the city leading you all around. And you," she says, turning to Zora, "for the love of everything sacred, stay here awhile. You've been through enough danger already."

Zora looks at Mordred. "I'll stay here for as long as they're in Hazard...I don't want to attract any attention that might put them in danger. But if what we learn means we have to leave the city to deal with the Sphere, I'm going with them, you can't stop me." Her gaze shifts to the walls surrounding the estate. "Or maybe you can," she mutters.

"One step at a time," Martjan says. "Gods, I don't even know if it's safe for me to go back to my business. I'll go mad if I have to hide out here. Maybe if we added a few more guards-for-hire..."

Sure, we'll say Felor saw the Sphere once, you can cast Locate Object. However, you know nothing about the OotGW.

Zora assures Zangua that she'll be fine, that the party is safer with him accompanying them.

After a few moments have passed, you see two figures coming down the path: a thin young man in a teal-and-gray hooded tunic, and the serving woman from earlier.

Sounds like you all want to go to the Temple of Isis to talk to elves first?

The thin youth waves to you with his left arm, which draws your attention to the fact that he appears to be missing his right arm entirely. "Greetings to all of you!" he says. "I am Makis Meti. The Generous Master says I am to guide you about the city, wherever you wish to go."

The serving woman sets a cloth bundle down on the table and turns to depart.