Astrid's face twists and the dwarf shakes her head trying to get the jarring noise out of her ears. 

"Ooo..! That was no good. I couldn't make a good connection with her," she says concerned. "I hope she's okay. I think she tried to reply, but there was a lot of other noise. Perhaps she's not on this world any more, or maybe someone is in her mind. Either way, this is troubling."

“Maybe she’s already in Valentine’s domain.” Caio replies, grave as ever. His eyes bore holes into the luxurious hardwood floor. It’s just a guess, but it’s well within the realm of possibility. “We’re doomed unless we can gather more resources, more allies, and more knowledge, even going up against Clarissa as we are now would be folly. The power we need to defeat them exists, we must simply find it.” Caio moves to the door, clearly not intending to enjoy their fine accommodations any time soon. “We have much work to do.”

Alaris shakes their hair out and pushes themselves to their feet. Their silvery eyes appear more of a hazy and tarnished grey, but they move to follow Caio. "Ugh... what day is it and how long has it been today?"

Wrapped in her own internal conversation, Shiva snaps to attention and rises to her feet to follow the others.

"I have no idea, Ari. But it's been today for at least a week."

She then looks to Caio. "So what's the first step?"

“Finding an arcanist,” Caio calls back, still making haste out of the inn and expecting everyone to keep up. “Matron preserve me, I may actually miss Nikolai after all,” he says with a sigh, slowing down as they exit onto the street. “Our first obstacle is breaking into a magically protected demiplane. I‘d like to find a learned mage who specializes in wards that’s willing to assist us, or at the very least point us in the right direction.” 

Falling into the familiar role of an investigator, Caio begins asking around and is quickly pointed in the direction of the Blue district. The streets in this part of the city are lined with occult bookstores and potion shops. It's a place where whispers of arcane knowledge linger in the air.

Caio's investigation leads him to a tower known as the Sanctum of Rifts. Tucked away in a secluded corner of the Blue district, the sanctum is a bastion of magical energy, protected by layers of intricate wards and sigils. Its keeper is purported to be one Elias Aetherweaver, Warden of the Rifts. The mage's reputation attributes him unparalleled knowledge and expertise in the arts of warding and planar manipulation.

There is an excitement the others have only seen come out of Caio when he is on the hunt. He practically races through the Blue District, though his haste is not without focus. He notes particularly interesting storefronts and advertisements as he goes, but he is intent on making it to the Sanctum of Rifts. As the tower comes into view in all its warded glory, the inquisitor actually smiles.

”There.” he breathes. Taking meticulous care not to trip any stray sigil lines, he picks his way to the door and knocks.

The blue-painted wood of the door warps and shifts until lips, a nose and eyes form on its surface.

"Who calls upon the Warden of the Rifts?" It asks in a deep, rich tone.

“The Septem Mortale,” Caio responds with a curt bow. “We are Slayers. We seek the Warden’s guidance and perhaps assistance regarding a particular quest of ours. If his sterling reputation holds true, it would be an honor to speak with him.”

The door swings open to reveal a corridor with dark wood flooring and panelling. Paintings line the walls, occasionally interspersed by a sideboard, console or vitrine. The passageway seems disproportionately long for the building's footprint.