As Diego offers his arm, Iromae thinks surely the gesture is directed to Shenua. But she just walks on by! 'Did he really intend for me to take his arm?' she thinks.  But as she approaches it seems awkward to just leave him like that.  So, after the tiniest hesitation, she takes the arm, saying, "Yes, we really should be on our way!"  

Vorenus looks at the logbook with a moment of frustration on his face before easily sliding into an jovial manner.  “Right.  Much to do, glad to say that our work here is done.  Farewell, Grathna!  Come, onward!”  Vorenus grabs Ironmae’s other arm and proceeds to whisk them all out the door in a celebratory manner.

As the group leaves the Artisan’s Guild, the warm glow of lanterns flickers against the darkening sky. The air carries the scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery and the distant murmur of city life continuing on. Their steps echo along the cobblestone streets as they put distance between themselves and the Guildhall, setting out to find a place to wait while keeping an ear — or in Shenua’s case, a mental link — attuned to the alarms set around the planar stabilizer.

The partial name "Va—" lingers in their thoughts. It's a lead, albeit a small one, but enough to narrow their search.

For now, though, they need a place to lay low, a spot close enough to respond when the alarm triggers but not so conspicuous that their presence raises suspicion. The usual options — a nearby tavern, a quiet corner of the library, or perhaps a rented private room — offer themselves up as possibilities.

Grathna watches them leave with a short wave, her expression unreadable. The half-orc had been cooperative, but her role in all of this still raises questions. Had she truly not noticed the inconsistency in the log before? Or had she chosen to say nothing?

Whatever the case, the real test is yet to come.

As Vorenus takes her other arm, Iromae blushes a bit, surprised to have two men at her side. Her eyes quickly glance to Shenua, a tiny bit of concerned that perhaps she'd be upset at her getting all this attention. She tries to ignore the situation, they're probably both just teasing her or something anyhow. "Are we headed to a tavern? Since it's getting late? Or on to the university first?" 

As the group moves through the city streets, Shenua walks just a step behind the others, her hands tucked into her coat. Diego, Iromae, and Vorenus stride ahead, arms linked in an almost theatrical display. She huffs a quiet breath—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh—and shakes her head. Well, at least someone’s having fun.

She answers Iromae, "Since we will probably have to leave in a rush, I think I prefer to leave the University for another moment. I wouldn't like to start investigating something only to leave it incomplete. I'd rather go to a tavern, or a library, and just kill time." 

Diego slows his pace as Iromae breaks the silence followed by the honey sweet tones of rational thinking spoken by Shenua. my how time has a way of slipping by when spending it with friends, I had no idea the hour had gotten so late in the day. A tavern close by, let me think a minute...he trails off in thought trying to get his bearings and recall the closest pub, if I remember correctly there should be on just up ahead. I seem to think better after a flagon of wine and a song or two. He leads the way to the pub, anyone remember a professor from our academy days with a name to match our Va clue?

Chatting, the group makes their way to a nearby tavern, the Braided Stave, a well-frequented spot not far from the Artisan’s Guild. The establishment is warm and inviting, with the scent of spiced ale and roasted meat filling the air. A lively tune drifts from a corner where a small band plays, and the murmur of conversation weaves through the clinking of mugs.

As they step inside, they quickly scan the room. It's comfortably busy — not too crowded to find a seat, but enough people that they won’t stand out. A few off-duty artisans and scholars from the Guild are scattered among the patrons, some deep in discussion over their latest projects, others simply unwinding with a drink.

A serving girl — a thin dragonborn with emerald green scales — passes by with a tray laden with frothy mugs, offering a smile. "Grab a seat anywhere! I’ll be with you in a moment!"

There are a few choices: an empty table near the fireplace, another in a quieter corner by the window, and a spot closer to the comfortably full bar.

Iromae feels a little anxious as she catches sight of Shenua as they walk. It's unfortunately hard to do that with the two men flanking her arm-in-arm. 'I hope she isn't mad at me,' she thinks. 'Although this is not my fault!'  She agrees with her tiefling friend when she suggests leaving the University for another time. "I certainly agree, it's a bit late for a stop there."  She almost makes a suggest but pauses as Diego speaks. He knows the bars far better than she does. 

Once inside the Braided Stave she looks around. She nods her head towards the quiet spot in the corner. "Shall we sit over there?" she asks the others. 

Once in the bar, Shenua spots a few guild members sitting there and goes to talk to the ones she knows best. She wouldn’t necessarily call all of them friends, but she understands the importance of keeping communication flowing for the sake of the job. After a short while exchanging pleasantries and discussing their latest projects, the tiefling returns to the group. She follows the direction Iromae is pointing and nods. She prefers the quieter spot, though she can imagine it won't be Diego’s choice—he tends to favor the livelier parts of taverns. Still, the artificer says,  "I think prefer that spot, too. It will probably help me be more focused on you know what."

The tiefling is a little anxious about the alarms and would rather not risk any noise or interruptions distracting her, just in case. This needs to go well. A successful outcome would put them in a good position with the Guild, and having the Guild on their side could be invaluable for getting Kalis back.

Once they’re seated, Shenua retrieves a few papers from her bag of holding. She does what feels most natural in moments of anxiety—focusing on her work. She spreads a schematic of a bird-like construct on the table, reviewing its components and making mental notes on improvements she can implement to finish it.

Come to think of it, Shenua could have asked Grathna about getting a discount on the gem she needs to build the homunculus servant. Or perhaps she could offer her help in exchange for the gem instead. She’ll have to remember to ask about it when they return to the Guild office.

Vorenus watches Shenua out of the corner of his eye, looking over the drawing.  A smile comes to his face as he watches her, admiring her work.  He looks down at his hands, begins making practice motions with his fingers, he brings a coin out of his pocket and rolls it along his knuckles.  “How long I wonder, how long will it take for our person of interest to strike?  I’m never good at waiting… a watched portal never boils…. “.   He seems lost in his thoughts as he stares at his hands, the coin rolling back and forth.  

Diego follows his friends to the table, orders some wine for the group and listens as they discuss. Absently pulling the baton from his belt and moving along with the music as if directing it. His thoughts running over the activities of the last two days. Kalis, plane magic, the test. What are the odds that we are going to the academy to find someone to discuss Plane magic with if hopes of finding a way to get Kalis back and we just happen to run across a Planar stabilizer that has been sabotaged. I can't help but feel like I'm missing the big picture. 

He takes a gulp from his mug, Shenua how are your alarms holding up?

The Braided Stave is alive with energy tonight. The murmur of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, and the rhythmic plucking of a lute from a corner stage fill the air. The scent of roasted meat, spiced cider, and aged ale wafts through the room, mingling with the faint aroma of pipe smoke.

As the group settles into the quieter corner Iromae pointed out, the emerald-scaled dragonborn server moves fluidly between tables, her movements quick and efficient. Though the bar is bustling, she seems to thrive in the busy atmosphere, her mood lifted by the rush of customers. When she reaches their table, her emerald eyes gleam with sharp awareness, a slight smirk curving her lips.

"What can I get for you lot?" she asks, her voice carrying a rich, almost melodic quality.

Iromae was pleased as the others agreed to the table she'd suggested.  She grabs a seat near the window, settling in.  She watched silently as Shenua rolls out the schematic, glancing over at it.  She can't help but admire the beauty of it though she doesn't want to disturb her work. She first grins as Vorenus already is wondering how long it will be.  Then Diego chimes in with asking Shenua about the alarms.  She shakes her head. "We've hardly just sat down. Let's enjoy the place a moment first." 

As there is a lull in the conversation, eventually her attention drifts and she glances up, catching sight of the dragonborn server. She follows her as she glides about, amazed at how well fit she seemed for what she was doing. As she asks what they want, she can't help but smile as she listens to her melodic voice. "I am fine with just the wine, thank you." She gives Diego a very brief glance, a bit upset he'd jumped in to order for the group. But then again, she had wanted wine - he was just being kind she supposed. But before the dragonborn can leave, she adds, "Oh, I just wanted to say the emerald color of your scales is really beautiful."

"I agree. I don't think whoever tampered with the stabilizer will return anytime soon," Shenua says after Iromae. "We may have to wait a good few hours. Let's be patient." As she speaks, she refocuses on the homunculus' blueprints, only glancing up when the dragonborn waitress addresses them. Realizing she could eat a little, the tiefling says, "How about something to go with that wine? A cheese platter, maybe. What do you guys think?"

Just then, a loud laugh erupts from another table, drawing her attention. The sound sparks a thought, and she turns back to the waitress. "Have you been working here long? Have any strange visitors lately? I mean, stranger than that lot," she adds with a smirk, gesturing toward her fellow guild members. "Maybe you've seen someone with blueprints like these", she taps her papers, "but who wasn’t one of the regulars."

The dragonborn server grins at Iromae’s compliment, the scales along her cheekbones catching the warm candlelight. “You’ve got a good eye,” she says with a flick of her tail. “Not many people appreciate the finer shades of green.” She nods as she jots down their requests, her quick script nearly as fluid as her movement.

At Shenua’s question, the dragonborn’s brow ridges lift slightly. “I’ve been here a while, yeah,” she replies, glancing toward the guild members Shenua gestured at. “And stranger than that lot? Hah. That’s a high bar.” She taps the end of her quill against her chin in thought. “Blueprints, though? Can’t say I’ve seen many folk bringing those into a tavern. But …” Her tail flicks again, more thoughtfully this time. “A few nights ago, there was a human — middle-aged, dark hair, a bit scruffy — who spent a long while sketching in a notebook. Sat alone, kept to himself, left in a hurry when he noticed me paying too much attention. Might be nothing, but he didn’t seem like your usual drink-and-dice crowd.”

She shrugs, setting her quill back to her parchment. “Anyway, I’ll get that wine and cheese for you.” With a final, knowing glance at the group, she turns and weaves back into the throng of patrons.

"Hm. Interesting. Could be no one important, or he could be who we are looking for. For the moment, it’s good to keep that information in mind," Shenua says once the dragonborn leaves.

The tiefling glances at a clock hanging on the nearby wall. They’ve only been here for a few minutes, and she wonders when—or if—she’ll receive the mental alarm. With a sigh, she refocuses on her papers, waiting for the wine and cheese. The thought makes her mouth water.

Iromae gives the dragonborn a brief nod, saying, "Thanks," as she imparts the information and then goes to fetch their order.  "You're right Shenua, that might just be the person we're looking for.  Something to follow up on if all else fails."  Still feeling happy to be here with her friends, she sits back as they await the wine. "It's been so long since I've seen all of you. And then it seems we've jumped right into all these mysteries!  What have you all been up to?"  She glances over at Diego. "I imagine you've had a number of beautiful ladies enthralled with you over the years. Any manage to turn the tables and enthrall you?" She grins, then switches her gaze to Vorenus. "And certainly Vorenus the Great has many admirers!" Finally she looks over at Shenua. "And while I'm sure you have focused on your projects, what else have you been doing?" 

Admittedly, the half-elf is rather curious about her friends' lives. But she also hopes the banter keeps everyone's minds off the wait. 

Vorenus smiles at Ironmae, pleased at the banter to keep their minds off of bigger tasks and worries.  “Admirers?  No, not really.  Travelers or adventurers who want a little “magic muscle” behind them as they are trying to do their various tasks.  Some view me more as a traveling entertainer, a portable magic show, just for kicks!  Hah.  Well.. sometimes things don’t go off quite right.  I’m still studying you see.  Life is an endless set of lessons, adventures, you never really stop learning, you know?  I thought that once I finished school, I would have it all down, everything would be easier, piece of cake.  Hah!  How wrong I was.  That’s really just the beginning.  I learned what fracking idiots people could be sometimes, always wanting everything just so, right on time, picture perfect… well, the real world isn’t like that.  I’ve learned that the hard way, more than once.  So Vorenus the…not so Great.  Vorenus, the Becoming.  The Ever Changing.  The Going to Be.  That’s me.  But you know what they say… “   *he leans in conspiratorially*. “Fake it until you make it, my dear.  Isn’t that right?”  He bursts out in laughter, catching everyone around him slightly off guard.  

“Oh, that’s good.  This wine is good.  But please, tell me.  I do want to know what each of you has been up to.  I feel like… we should have kept in better touch.  Somehow.”  He looks down and starts to trace the rim of his wine glass, looking up from time to time.

Shenua leans back in her seat, setting the blueprints on the table and taking a moment to gather her thoughts before answering. 

"Well, I had a clear objective once I finished my studies and started earning money: to help my parents. They sacrificed so much just so I could study in Suzail. For years, they couldn’t spare a single copper on anything that wasn’t for me. And that was hard, you know? I studied harder than anyone else because I couldn’t bear the idea of staying at the university any longer than necessary—it would have meant even more years of struggle for them."

She exhales softly, then continues, "So, once I saved up a bit, the first thing we did was repair our home in Marsember. Though, repair might not be the right word—we practically rebuilt the whole thing!" She chuckles before adding, "And, of course, I couldn't resist improving it with a few gadgets here and there. My mother’s a seamstress, and now she only spends a quarter of the time ironing thanks to some modifications I made to her irons. We also redesigned my father’s workspace. What used to be a cramped little nook is now a proper room where everything is safely and neatly stored. And with proper natural light, so he doesn’t have to strain his eyes anymore."

A warm smile crosses the tiefling's face. "The last time I went home, my mother told me something she never thought she’d be able to say—they’re finally trying to have another baby. It’s something they’ve dreamed of for years. They had me when they were young, so they still have time. Gods, the thought of having a little brother or sister…" Her smile broadens considerably at the idea.

"As for the Guild… well, I’ve met plenty of people. Some good, some not so much. Envy makes things difficult, and not everyone’s eager to see someone else succeed. I’ve had to take on projects I’d rather not talk about—things that weren’t about innovation but about making some noble’s life even more excessive. But work is work, and sometimes you have to take on things you don’t particularly like." Shenua waves a hand dismissively, as if brushing away the thought. "But it hasn’t all been bad. I’ve made a few friends. Even a few distractions along the way." She chuckles slightly and takes a sip of her drink before adding, "But what I’ve enjoyed the most these past years is finally being able to live at my own pace, without depending on my parents. It’s like a weight has been lifted, and I love knowing that my family is standing on solid ground, living comfortably."

The artificer watches Vorenus quietly after he finishes speaking. When he bursts into laughter, she shakes her head with a chuckle, and asks the question that has been in her mind since they met the day before. "You know, you call yourself Vorenus the Becoming or the Going to Be, but why do you want to be Vorenus the Great so badly?" She tilts her head, genuinely curious. "What’s wrong with just being… Vorenus?"

She gestures vaguely, as if trying to find the right words. "I mean, I get it. People always expect more. You work, you improve, you push yourself. But who decides when you’ve made it? When is it enough? If you’re always chasing some idea of greatness, you might miss the fact that you already are someone worth recognizing, don't you think?"

The warm glow of the Braided Stave casts long shadows against the wooden beams, the occasional flicker of candlelight making the atmosphere feel alive with movement. Conversations ebb and flow around the group, a constant undercurrent of laughter, murmured dealings, and the occasional clatter of tankards. The dragonborn server soon returns, balancing a tray with an effortless grace that matches her earlier fluidity. She places the requested items on the table — an assortment of cheeses, crisp bread, and a rich red wine that catches the light in deep ruby hues.

"Enjoy," she says with a wink before turning away, already drawn into another round of orders.

Meanwhile, the night wears on, and the tavern sways between moments of quiet and bursts of liveliness as more patrons come and go. A trio of off-duty Purple Dragons — Cormyr's elite military force — has taken up a table near the bar, their uniforms loosened at the collars as they engage in a relaxed game of cards. The guild members Shenua had spoken to earlier seem in high spirits, their drinks flowing freely as they regale each other with tales of mishaps and successes.

Yet, despite the warmth and camaraderie in the room, a slight tension lingers — perhaps from the weight of waiting, or perhaps from the mention of the unknown sketching man. At one point, the door opens, and a draft of cool air sweeps through the space. A hooded figure steps in, shaking off the night chill before making their way toward the bar. Their presence is unremarkable at first glance, blending into the usual crowd of travelers and laborers, but something about their deliberate movements suggests purpose.

As the group settles into their conversation, sharing stories of the years apart, the feeling remains — an invisible thread of expectation woven between the moments of laughter and reflection.