Chapter Four: The Manifest of the Harikan Squall

The guards whip their heads around at the sights and sounds of Mordred's arcane trickery. "This is madness!" one of them snaps. They exchange quick glances and split up to investigate.

Meanwhile, by Ziu-Pater's temple, the guard there manages to disperse the crowd that had set itself upon Darux, who now lays bloody and unconscious on the ground, not far from the body of the old man he killed.

The priestess sits up, as confused as the rest, wondering what fresh hell this new commotion heralds.

Insight check, anyone but Domarc?

With everyone distracted by Mordred's cantrips, it occurs to Felor that if there was ever a time to just run for it, this might be it.

Leth reckons that fire-bells on the north side of town have a considerably greater than zero chance of meaning that Zora and the others are in danger.

Zangua, are you going with or still surrendering?

Zangua's street smarts tell him it would be smart to hit the streets right now and follow the others.

~meanwhile, on the north side of town~

The meeting had been an awkward one, to be sure. The knife was an antique, yes, and the cinnabar gems embedded in its hilt gave it value, certainly, but without a better record of its provenance, there was absolutely no way to confirm that the knife was, in fact, the fabled Vermillion Vespa of Iwhan the Dancer, and to be really blunt about it, it looked far more like a Darcran ritual knife than anything likely to have come out of Gurmar during Iwhan's reign. But try telling an obscenely rich collector that his prized acquisition wasn't worth a fraction of what he'd paid for it...with all the bluster and denial and wounded pride he'd had to assuage, Vhezyen had hardly even had the opportunity to process his own disappointment that he likely wasn't going to get the chance to study the unique enchantments the legendary blade was said to hold, after all.

The fire-bells had saved him from dwelling on the unpleasant encounter for too long. They started not long after he'd left the collector's house, and it wasn't long before he saw the orange glow over the rooftops and the smoke obscuring the stars, and he quickened his pace to get himself to the scene of the blaze. Rare was the wealthy homeowner in this part of town who didn't own at least some treasures of historical or numinous import that wouldn't be worth trying to save...

If y'all could refer back to this map, which route would you want to take back to the Gahmez estate?

Portent Rolls (from Divination school)