Shenua doesn't really know how to feel now that the danger has passed. Though she still aches from the Weave's rebuke when she tried to overload the node, relief washes over her: they've broken free, and the masked man and his guards are nowhere to be seen. As she catches her breath, her mind briefly lingers on the sensation of the Weave coursing through her veins. Such raw power! And this, even knowing the Weave is still in need of mending. How incredible would it feel if it were completely restored, she wonders.

But as much as she wants to dwell on that, one question presses above all others: what now? Where did the masked man and his soldiers go? Have they vanished for good? Somehow Shenua doubts it; a nagging sense tells her they will cross paths again. And Lirae — has she gone too? But how? She was far too weak to even speak. Did these people take her? Is she even safe?

The tiefling presses her fingertips to her temples as these thoughts rush through her mind. One thing is clear, and Shenua voices it as soon as her nerves have calmed enough to speak. Stepping toward Vorenus and Iromae, she says, "Are… are you okay? I have a million questions, but I don't think this is the time or place. Let's get out of here, alright? Not that I like following that man's words, but he was right about one thing: someone will have noticed what we just did, and we shouldn't be here when they come. Safehouse? We'll talk there."

Before leaving, Shenua casts a final glance around the room, using her magic to sharpen her senses. With all the commotion, the spell is unlikely to draw any additional attention. She makes sure, however, to cancel it before they reach the streets of Suzail.

(ooc: Just want to check if there's anything magical in the room. Perhaps Lirae, or the masked man and his guards, dropped something when the bindings shattered, or especially when Vorenus unleashed the storm on them?)

Vorenus collapses to the ground, breathing heavy, unable to speak for a good few minutes.  It takes a while for his eyes to come back into focus, to see the room and Shenua, Iromae.  With a very hoarse voice, he says “What happened?  Everyone okay?  Where… where are they?  I’ve never felt anything like that before.  I’m.. I’m sorry, I felt all of that power channel through me, and I couldn’t stand seeing those people, the though of them harming you, Lirae, all of us.  So, I funneled the power through me, to blow them to bits, oh gosh, I have no idea what happened.  I hope I didn’t cause irreparable harm… but, you’re right.  We need to get out of here.  I may need your help.  Nothing like that has ever come out of me before…”. Vorenus staggers to a standing position, looking around, trying to get his bearings.  

In the immediate aftermath, Iromae is left holding her head with both hands. Eyes closed, she rubs at her temples. Finally, she looks around to see the place empty other than her friends. With, hopefully, nothing else to worry about, she slides down to sit on the ground. 

"Blow them to bits?" she asks Vorenus in a weak voice. "You think the others were destroyed? Not just shuffled off elsewhere?" There's no accusation in her tone, just trying to piece together what had happened. "Did we consume the node? It seems as dead as when we arrived."  She then looks over at Shenua. "You're right, we should talk elsewhere."  With a sigh she adds, "I'm going to need to rest at some point." 

The silence after the storm feels heavier than the storm itself. The tribunal hall is scorched and cracked, smelling of hot stone and ozone. Dust drifts lazily in the faint, sourceless light still clinging to the fractured node.

Shenua’s senses flare as the Detect Magic takes hold. The air hums faintly with lingering conjuration — a teleportation trace, already unraveling. That’s how the masked man and his guards vanished, and how Lirae was taken. There’s no stable circle left, only the aftertaste of displacement magic. The bindings at your wrists are inert, the etched runes cracked and smoldering.

A closer sweep reveals two faint auras amid the debris:

Abjuration, clinging to a twisted iron rod half-buried in rubble. A fragment of the manacles, maybe still useful ... or dangerous.

Evocation, faint but sharp, embedded in a shard of blackened stone from the node itself. Its pulse resonates faintly with Vorenus, like a bell still ringing in the marrow of his bones.

No sign of Lirae remains except the dark smear of blood trailing toward the grate, cut off sharply where the teleport trace is strongest.

Outside the chamber, distant voices echo — soldiers or watch patrols, maybe both. The masked man was right about one thing: the storm of magic here did not go unnoticed.

You have a sliver of time before the place is crawling with witnesses.

Vorenus controls his breathing, notices or more aptly feels the pulsing charred stone in the node and he reaches out, picking it up, holding it in his hand.  He feels the thrum in his body, beating in time with his heart he imagines.  He looks at Shenua and Iromae, saying "We need to leave, right now.  Back to the safe house.  We must go!  I found this piece, piece of the node I think -  I don't know, I have some connection to it, I feel it inside me.  Anything else?  I have so much going on in my mind..."  Vorenus is distracted, but he clearly looks like a cornered animal, looking to flee with all possible speed.

"Yes, we need to get out. Now," Iromae agrees. She struggles back onto her feet, looking weary, but ready to go. "Quickly." She moves slowly until she is sure the others are joining her, but she starts to retrace their steps the way they came in. 

"Teleportation," Shenua mutters. "So that's how they left so quickly. And how they took Lirae with them." She curses in Infernal, frustration sharp in her voice. How in the Nine Hells were they supposed to find the wizard now? Could they still access the Masquerade? And what about the mirrorcraft clothes from the Veil & Vellum — how to get them without Lirae's referral? She shook her head. Not the time. Not here.

Wasting no more breath, she nods to Vorenus and Iromae and moves toward the exit with them. Then she halts, her eyes returning to the fragment of the manacles. Residual magic still clings to it — maybe dangerous, maybe invaluable. For a heartbeat she hesitates, weighing the risks. Then she snaps out of it, stoops to pick the fragment, and hurries after her companions.

"Don't worry," she says to Iromae, her voice softer now. "You'll get your rest. Just hold on a little longer, then you we can all collapse properly." She smiles slightly and squeezes the cleric's hand for comfort before adding, with a quick glance at Vorenus, "You take his hand, okay? In case it goes dark again in the corridors."

With that, she presses forward, toward the exit — and, gods willing, toward the safehouse.

The echo of your footsteps feels far too loud in the empty chamber as you gather yourselves and move toward the exit. The tribunal’s shadows seem heavier now, like the whole place is holding its breath, waiting for the aftermath of what you’ve just done. Somewhere outside, faint voices stir — guards or onlookers already drawn by the noise and flash of magic.

If you’re to reach the safehouse, you’ll need to slip away quickly and quietly. Each of you will need to rely on your own strengths to get out unseen. Choose how you’ll contribute to the escape:

Stealth – Move silently through the corridors and into the streets.

Perception or Investigation – Spot the safest route back, noticing patrols or hazards before it’s too late.

Arcana – Keep the volatile shard or the lingering magic in check so it doesn’t flare and draw attention.

Constitution – Endure the fatigue and strain, pushing your body just a little further.

Persuasion/Deception – If caught or noticed, bluff your way past as though you belong there.

Everyone should make one check, describing how they’re helping the group escape. The outcome of your rolls will determine what complications (if any) follow you back to the safehouse.

Iromae will rely on her Perception to keep an eye out for anyone that might be watching for them, or any pitfalls they might run into.  (Perception: 19)

Vorenus uses his skills that he’s honed over time with many traveling bands of adventurers to persuade them that everything is just fine, nothing to see here, we were out for evening stroll and got turned around, left our whozywhatsis back at the apartment and need to go back to get it immediately, etc.  He spins a fine web of B.S. if they are stopped, allowing them to proceed and move on back toward the safe house.  

Persuasion : 22