When the stranger speaks again, Shenua nearly lets out an exasperated huff. That damn smirk. She’d love to wipe it off his face, but then his words replay in her mind and she realizes that what he's said is annoyingly true. Damn it. Why didn’t she think of that? She forces herself to look back at him, maintaining a serious expression, and then gives a single, controlled nod. "Thank you for sharing that."
Focusing her attention back on the magic detection spell, the artificer not surprised to find the lingering aura on Rassel. Iromae had already stated that he was poisoned with magic, after all. But what does surprise her is the signature — unmistakably sorcerous. The distinction hits her immediately. While wizards and artificers tend to leave behind a precise, orderly pattern, this aura is erratic and chaotic. A sorcerer did this.
But nothing prepares her for the shock of finding the same signature clinging to Vorenus. What? She blinks. How can this be? He’s a wizard. He’s always been a wizard — different from other wizards, sure, but a wizard nonetheless. Always looking through that battered spellbook of his, even though he barely seemed to care for it. Pages constantly on the edge of falling apart.
Shenua's mind flashes back to the day before. She’d scolded Vorenus about taking better care of his book, and Iromae had scolded her in turn, claiming she was too hard on him. But the truth is she had only wanted to suggest that a wizard should care for his spellbook. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to prepare his daily spells! Godsdamn it. What if he isn’t using the book at all? What if he’s been faking it this entire time? That comment he made earlier ... Fake it untill you make it, was it?
"Godsdamn it, Vorenus."
Shenua forces herself to stop looking at him. Now is not the time to confront him about this. Instead, she turns to Rassel’s friends, keeping her expression neutral. "Get Rassel out of here. Take him home. Keep him cool with ice to help with the fever. The poison will wear off by itself in a few hours." To offer an explanation, her eyes flick toward the hooded man, and she adds, "He’s right. No one is sustaining the poison. It will fade on its own."
Anticipating Iromae’s inevitable questions, Shenua locks eyes with the cleric. She shakes her head once, curtly — a silent message. Not now. We’ll talk about this later.
Without another word, she walks back to her seat, grabs her glass of wine and drinks it in one quick gulp. She shoots a final, look at "Grathna" before swiftly turning her face away.
Iromae's attention is first drawn to the cloaked man replying back to her remark. "It is not a lucky guess; it is a diagnosis built upon my study of medicine and of magic. The signs are clear. However, no, I do not know exactly how it happened, as the actual use of magic for poisoning people is not something that I have studied."She does realize that the man's comments about the poison fading if the caster is not sustaining it. 'But if he cast it, and is still here, then is he sustaining it?' she wonders, without really knowing the answer. "I do appreciate your insight though. Thank you."
She then turns back to Shenua, wondering what she had discovered. As she tells Rassel's friends to take him home, she figures she must be assured nobody is sustaining the spell. 'Does that mean the hooded man isn't behind it?' she contemplates. 'Or did he do it and drop the spell? But why would he do that? Ah! She was confused here.' It was then that the tiefling had locked eyes with her. 'Why is she shaking her head? Ok, no questions right now... But what could she have noticed? Obviously, something she didn't want the hooded man to know about!' She backs away, making sure Rassel is still holding in there.
But she does note how Shenua drains her wine and casts a look at Vorenus' false Grathna. She can't make sense of it, and it takes a little bit of effort to bite her tongue and stay quiet.
“Grathna” looks up at Shenua, then Ironmae who have come back to the table. Grathna says in a low voice, “I saw you speaking to the man did you discern anything? I hope we are giving Diego enough time… what happened to that poor fellow over there? Is he feeling any better?” Grathna seems nervous, fidgeting with her hands, rolling the cup in them.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua stares at Vorenus in disbelief. "Did I discern something? Hell yes, I did. Only, not what I expected", she thinks. Is the wizard sorcerer trying to deflect the question? Or does he truly not realize he was the reason Rassel got poisoned? She watches him closely. His nervousness, his fidgeting—they suggest he knows what happened. But… what if he doesn’t? What if he’s unaware of his own sorcerous nature? (Insight: 21)
Trying to keep her tone neutral—no need to add to the tension already thick in the tavern—she exhales and says, “I did discern something. But I think it’s best we talk about it later. Right now, shouldn’t we be focused on… you know what? Should we be worried about Diego? Should we go to him?”
OOC: Diego left right when Rassel started acting sick, so it's really only been a couple of minutes. The energy has been high, so it might feel longer, but it hasn't been. I'm going to wait a little longer before advancing the story(ies).
“You did, eh? Well, I’m sure that… well, we can talk about it at another time.” *furtive look at Rassel, true concern on his face* Vorenus fumbles with his wine glass, rolling it in his hands, which seem to be sweating somewhat. Whispered, “Oh, I was just wondering what Diego was up to, hoping that this whole ruse proves useful…”
Vorenus seems to be looking at the door, at the table, his glass, over at the mysterious man, looking at Rassel, as he is escorted out the door. Anywhere, but at Shenua’s eyes. She always could find me out, when I’m up to something…
Vorenus deception : 8. He’s usually much better at misdirecting, hiding things. He seems very nervous to you. You’ve definitely touched a nerve, but he’s determined to uphold the mission..
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Hearing the words between Shenua and Vorenus, Iromae's curiosity only grows. But she keeps her mouth shut for the moment to focus on Rassel, making sure he continues to be in good shape and that his friends can keep tending to him. "Treating the symptoms should be the best bet until the toxin can pass. You're all doing a great job with him."
The more Vorenus speaks, the more certain Shenua is that he knows what happened. And he knows that she knows, too. That must be why he won’t meet her eyes, right? Sweet hells, how is it possible none of them noticed before, after all those years studying together? He must be especially good at hiding things. And is this related somehow to his insistence in calling himself the Great?
The tiefling is too restless to sit idly. She reminds herself that, even with all that’s happened, Diego left barely a couple of minutes ago—it’s probably too soon to think about going after him. What’s happening at the guild? Will the alarms go off? And what about the hooded man? He’s definitely not common tavern folk. What is he doing here? If he’s the one who tampered with the device, why hasn’t he left already? And if he’s not, then why be here at all? It can't be purely coincidental.
Suddenly, she jerks upright and strides to the counter, her tall and willowy figure reaching it in a few long steps. "I think I need a drink. More wine, please,"she asks the bartender. But then she reconsiders and corrects herself. "Mmmmm, no, no more alcohol. I need to stay focused. Perhaps coffee? No, that won’t do my nerves any good. Water, please. Just water."
As Shenua waits for the dragonborn to bring her glass of water, she massages her temples tiredly. She needs something to happen—preferably without any more poisoning. She eyes the hooded man. What the hell is he doing here? Is he still swirling his wine? "Damn, doesn’t he have anything better to do?" She exhales in frustration, thoughts swirling in her mind as the wine swirls in the stranger's glass.
The atmosphere in the tavern hums with tension. Rassel, still weak but stable, is helped to his feet by his friends, their murmured reassurances doing little to disguise the worried glances they throw toward Iromae and "Grantha"'s table. Whatever happened to him was unnatural, but for now, the immediate danger has passed.
Across the room, the hooded man’s glass tilts in slow circles, the deep red liquid catching the candlelight as it sloshes lazily. He hasn’t moved — hasn’t even acknowledged the situation beyond his cryptic interjections. But when Shenua's sharp gaze flickers toward him again, he seems to sense it.
Then, in one smooth motion, the figure stands, his glass lowering to the bar almost soundlessly.
The cloak sways as he moves, careful and deliberate, threading his way toward the door without urgency. A gloved hand dips into his cloak. There’s no obvious sign of a weapon, but the motion is intentional. Whether he means to leave unnoticed or is waiting to be stopped is unclear.
At the bar, the dragonborn bartender slams down a glass of water in front of Shenua. "One water, just as you like it. You’re looking tense, darling. Drink up before you break something."
Behind her, the hooded man is nearly at the exit.
The Guild Hall
The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind Diego, leaving the noise of the city outside. The familiar scents of parchment, oil, and metal fill the air, mingling with the ever-present hum of arcane energy that runs through the Guild Hall’s stabilizer chambers.
He moves forward, keeping to the shadows. The planar stabilizer room is just ahead — its reinforced door bathed in the soft, pulsing glow of containment runes. But there’s something else: a figure.
They are pressed close to the stabilizer room’s entrance, gloved fingers running along the edges of the door as if searching for something. The faintest whisper of movement suggests they’re working at the lock, but it’s not the clumsy effort of a common thief — this is practiced, methodical.
From the back, the figure appears tall and lean, dressed in a long, dark navy cloak that drapes over their shoulders and down to their calves. The material is well-made but unadorned, designed for function over fashion.
Their hood is raised, however, a few strands of pale, silvery-blonde hair escape from beneath the hood, faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the stabilizer runes.
Then — a soft click.
The door shifts ever so slightly. The figure is getting inside.
OOC: I know you're thinking that Shenua should be alerted if the figure is entering. I'd like to know what's going on in the half a second between this post and the alarm spell sounding.
Shenua arches a brow at the waitress's remark. "Well, darling, turns out I have every reason to be."
She takes a couple of sips, but as soon as the man stands up to leave, she quickly places a gold coin on the table to cover everyone's drinks and the cheese platter. Then, she turns to follow him with her gaze. The moment she notices his hand dipping into his cloak, she doesn’t think twice. She shares an urgent glance with Iromae and the disguised Vorenus, then grabs her lockpick. With a careful, measured flick of the wrist she summons an Eldritch Cannon in her hand.
The small weapon looks exactly like the one she showed her friends when they first met—only this time, she tilts it to the left instead of the right. When the gears settle into place, Shenua pockets the tiny cannon.
The moment the hooded man steps out of the tavern, the turquoise haired tiefling moves to follow. But she doesn’t go after him right away, giving him space so he doesn't notice he's being followed (hopefully).
The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind Diego, leaving the noise of the city outside. The familiar scents of parchment, oil, and metal fill the air, mingling with the ever-present hum of arcane energy that runs through the Guild Hall’s stabilizer chambers.
He moves forward, keeping to the shadows. The planar stabilizer room is just ahead — its reinforced door bathed in the soft, pulsing glow of containment runes. But there’s something else: a figure.
They are pressed close to the stabilizer room’s entrance, gloved fingers running along the edges of the door as if searching for something. The faintest whisper of movement suggests they’re working at the lock, but it’s not the clumsy effort of a common thief — this is practiced, methodical.
From the back, the figure appears tall and lean, dressed in a long, dark navy cloak that drapes over their shoulders and down to their calves. The material is well-made but unadorned, designed for function over fashion.
Their hood is raised, however, a few strands of pale, silvery-blonde hair escape from beneath the hood, faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the stabilizer runes.
Then — a soft click.
The door shifts ever so slightly. The figure is getting inside.
As Diego makes his way to the stabilizer room and well before getting close, he'll cast Invisibility upon himself. He watches as the figure works on the lock, thinking to himself "impressive", as the lock clicks he prepares the spell command and waits for the figure to trigger the alarm.
The hooded figure steps past the threshold of the tavern, the night swallowing him in an instant. The flickering light from the torches outside does little to illuminate his features, but his movement remains precise — controlled.
Shenua lingers just long enough for the door to fully close before she follows, giving him space, ensuring he doesn’t immediately suspect he’s being shadowed.
Outside, the night air is crisp, carrying the distant sounds of carriages and murmuring voices. The streets of Suzail aren’t deserted, but they’re quiet enough for someone moving with purpose to stand out.
The figure turns down a narrow side street, weaving past a pair of late-night laborers unloading a cart. His hand remains inside his cloak, fingers curled around something unseen. Whether it’s a weapon, a magical focus, or something else entirely remains unclear.
For now, he doesn’t seem to have noticed Shenua. But if he’s as experienced as he seems, it’s only a matter of time before he checks his surroundings.
Guild Hall
The figure slips into the room, unaware that a magical alarm has been tripped.
Though no audible sound rings through the hall, a mental ping resonates in Shenua’s mind — wherever she is, she now knows that someone has entered the stabilizer room.
Inside the hall, Diego watches, invisible and patient, as the intruder moves with practiced precision. Now fully inside the stabilizer room, the figure does not hesitate. Their eyes — now partially visible beneath the hood — flick toward the central device, the planar stabilizer, which hums with a faint golden glow.
They produce something small from their belt — a tool, a vial, or perhaps a magical component, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. Carefully, they begin examining the stabilizer, searching for something.
The Street
Shenua’s steps are careful, measured, as she follows the hooded figure into the quiet side streets of Suzail. The night’s chill nips at her skin, but her focus remains steady.
And then — a jolt.
The mental alert from her alarm spell pulses through her mind, clear and undeniable. Someone has entered the stabilizer room.
Her instincts sharpen.
The hooded figure turns a corner, slipping into an alleyway.
Iromae stays with Rassel and his friends until they have him safely on his way out. She then joins the false Grantha at the table. "Well, this has certainly become an interesting evening," she says off-hand. But her attention is far more focused on Shenua. 'What is wrong with her? What exactly did she discover?' she wonders.
She doesn't have much time to wonder though as the hooded man soon sets out to leave. And Shenua looks to be just behind him. The man's hand slipping to grasp something catches her attention and she readies herself to respond with a spell if necessary. Then he is out the door. And after a pause, and the look from the tiefling, Shenua is out the door as well.
There's a bit of relaxation from the immediate potential for attack. She turns to the false Grantha. "We should follow her. But give her a bit of distance so we don't spoil her attempt at stealth." She knows that Stealth is not her strength. After another breath, she heads for the door as well.
Shenua’s breath catches when the mental alert goes off, and she freezes in the middle of the street. She needs to warn Iromae and Vorenus—they’ve seen her intentions, but they’re not in the street yet.
She assumes the hooded man will head to the Guild, but if he takes a more intricate route through the alleyways instead of a direct path, she wants to send a message before continuing her pursuit.
With that in mind, she looks down, grabs the first stone she sees, and traces a few of sigils with her lockpick. They shine brilliantly for a split second before settling into its surface. Holding the stone close to her lips, she murmurs, "The alarm has gone off. Go to the Guild directly. I will follow him."
Immediately afterward, she summons her spectral mage hand, places the tinkered stone in its grasp, and instructs it to hover just outside the door. Assuming Iromae or Vorenus will be the first to step out and that they will do so before the hand disappears because the tiefling has walked away far from it, they’ll stumble upon the floating hand and instantly recognize the sigils as her work. The moment one of them picks up the stone, the recorded message will play.
With the message ready, Shenua proceeds to follow the man, getting close to the walls of buildings so they can give her a bit of cover as she moves as silently as possible behind him.
Grathna immediately nods, standing, and grabbing anything that she left sitting, quickly pulling her cloak around her. She moves with Ironmae to the door, following behind Shenua. She opens the door for Ironmae and steps out onto the street, rapidly following Shenua. As Grathna steps into the street, she sees in the distance the fading figure of Shenua disappearing down an alleyway, and sees a floating hand with a small stone. The two of them hear the message, a sudden intake of breath as they learn that it is happening, right now!
Grathna turns to Ironmae, saying “Should we run, to the Guild? I worry about her, she could get in trouble on her own, that man seemed dangerous! Quickly, we must move!”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
After hearing the message with Vorenus, Iromae tries to recall where that alley Shenua went down might go. "Can we get to the Guild through that alley? If so, we should just both head that way?" She speaks aloud her though, both hoping Vorenus might know and hoping she would remember herself. "Otherwise maybe we split up to help both our friends?" It is not at all her first choice. But that hooded man was creepy and likely dangerous if Shenua had to deal with him alone. And if the alarm went off, Diego might need help! She wasn't sure what to do.
Mind made up quickly, Vorenus/Grathna shakes his head at Ironmae. “She knowingly sent us there. She knows to the keep to the shadows and out of harms way. She has way more skill than I. Let’s both run to Diego, I am fearful of what is happening at the portal!” Grathna starts off in a run, dashing toward the guild, reversing their steps from earlier. She motions to Ironmae to come along and keep up, run with her.
When the stranger speaks again, Shenua nearly lets out an exasperated huff. That damn smirk. She’d love to wipe it off his face, but then his words replay in her mind and she realizes that what he's said is annoyingly true. Damn it. Why didn’t she think of that? She forces herself to look back at him, maintaining a serious expression, and then gives a single, controlled nod. "Thank you for sharing that."
Focusing her attention back on the magic detection spell, the artificer not surprised to find the lingering aura on Rassel. Iromae had already stated that he was poisoned with magic, after all. But what does surprise her is the signature — unmistakably sorcerous. The distinction hits her immediately. While wizards and artificers tend to leave behind a precise, orderly pattern, this aura is erratic and chaotic. A sorcerer did this.
But nothing prepares her for the shock of finding the same signature clinging to Vorenus. What? She blinks. How can this be? He’s a wizard. He’s always been a wizard — different from other wizards, sure, but a wizard nonetheless. Always looking through that battered spellbook of his, even though he barely seemed to care for it. Pages constantly on the edge of falling apart.
Shenua's mind flashes back to the day before. She’d scolded Vorenus about taking better care of his book, and Iromae had scolded her in turn, claiming she was too hard on him. But the truth is she had only wanted to suggest that a wizard should care for his spellbook. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to prepare his daily spells! Godsdamn it. What if he isn’t using the book at all? What if he’s been faking it this entire time? That comment he made earlier ... Fake it untill you make it, was it?
"Godsdamn it, Vorenus."
Shenua forces herself to stop looking at him. Now is not the time to confront him about this. Instead, she turns to Rassel’s friends, keeping her expression neutral. "Get Rassel out of here. Take him home. Keep him cool with ice to help with the fever. The poison will wear off by itself in a few hours." To offer an explanation, her eyes flick toward the hooded man, and she adds, "He’s right. No one is sustaining the poison. It will fade on its own."
Anticipating Iromae’s inevitable questions, Shenua locks eyes with the cleric. She shakes her head once, curtly — a silent message. Not now. We’ll talk about this later.
Without another word, she walks back to her seat, grabs her glass of wine and drinks it in one quick gulp. She shoots a final, look at "Grathna" before swiftly turning her face away.
"Godsdamn it, Vorenus."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Iromae's attention is first drawn to the cloaked man replying back to her remark. "It is not a lucky guess; it is a diagnosis built upon my study of medicine and of magic. The signs are clear. However, no, I do not know exactly how it happened, as the actual use of magic for poisoning people is not something that I have studied." She does realize that the man's comments about the poison fading if the caster is not sustaining it. 'But if he cast it, and is still here, then is he sustaining it?' she wonders, without really knowing the answer. "I do appreciate your insight though. Thank you."
She then turns back to Shenua, wondering what she had discovered. As she tells Rassel's friends to take him home, she figures she must be assured nobody is sustaining the spell. 'Does that mean the hooded man isn't behind it?' she contemplates. 'Or did he do it and drop the spell? But why would he do that? Ah! She was confused here.' It was then that the tiefling had locked eyes with her. 'Why is she shaking her head? Ok, no questions right now... But what could she have noticed? Obviously, something she didn't want the hooded man to know about!' She backs away, making sure Rassel is still holding in there.
But she does note how Shenua drains her wine and casts a look at Vorenus' false Grathna. She can't make sense of it, and it takes a little bit of effort to bite her tongue and stay quiet.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
“Grathna” looks up at Shenua, then Ironmae who have come back to the table. Grathna says in a low voice, “I saw you speaking to the man did you discern anything? I hope we are giving Diego enough time… what happened to that poor fellow over there? Is he feeling any better?” Grathna seems nervous, fidgeting with her hands, rolling the cup in them.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Shenua stares at Vorenus in disbelief. "Did I discern something? Hell yes, I did. Only, not what I expected", she thinks. Is the
wizardsorcerer trying to deflect the question? Or does he truly not realize he was the reason Rassel got poisoned? She watches him closely. His nervousness, his fidgeting—they suggest he knows what happened. But… what if he doesn’t? What if he’s unaware of his own sorcerous nature? (Insight: 21)Trying to keep her tone neutral—no need to add to the tension already thick in the tavern—she exhales and says, “I did discern something. But I think it’s best we talk about it later. Right now, shouldn’t we be focused on… you know what? Should we be worried about Diego? Should we go to him?”
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
OOC: Diego left right when Rassel started acting sick, so it's really only been a couple of minutes. The energy has been high, so it might feel longer, but it hasn't been. I'm going to wait a little longer before advancing the story(ies).
“You did, eh? Well, I’m sure that… well, we can talk about it at another time.” *furtive look at Rassel, true concern on his face* Vorenus fumbles with his wine glass, rolling it in his hands, which seem to be sweating somewhat. Whispered, “Oh, I was just wondering what Diego was up to, hoping that this whole ruse proves useful…”
Vorenus seems to be looking at the door, at the table, his glass, over at the mysterious man, looking at Rassel, as he is escorted out the door. Anywhere, but at Shenua’s eyes. She always could find me out, when I’m up to something…
Vorenus deception : 8. He’s usually much better at misdirecting, hiding things. He seems very nervous to you. You’ve definitely touched a nerve, but he’s determined to uphold the mission..
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Hearing the words between Shenua and Vorenus, Iromae's curiosity only grows. But she keeps her mouth shut for the moment to focus on Rassel, making sure he continues to be in good shape and that his friends can keep tending to him. "Treating the symptoms should be the best bet until the toxin can pass. You're all doing a great job with him."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
The more Vorenus speaks, the more certain Shenua is that he knows what happened. And he knows that she knows, too. That must be why he won’t meet her eyes, right? Sweet hells, how is it possible none of them noticed before, after all those years studying together? He must be especially good at hiding things. And is this related somehow to his insistence in calling himself the Great?
The tiefling is too restless to sit idly. She reminds herself that, even with all that’s happened, Diego left barely a couple of minutes ago—it’s probably too soon to think about going after him. What’s happening at the guild? Will the alarms go off? And what about the hooded man? He’s definitely not common tavern folk. What is he doing here? If he’s the one who tampered with the device, why hasn’t he left already? And if he’s not, then why be here at all? It can't be purely coincidental.
Suddenly, she jerks upright and strides to the counter, her tall and willowy figure reaching it in a few long steps. "I think I need a drink. More wine, please," she asks the bartender. But then she reconsiders and corrects herself. "Mmmmm, no, no more alcohol. I need to stay focused. Perhaps coffee? No, that won’t do my nerves any good. Water, please. Just water."
As Shenua waits for the dragonborn to bring her glass of water, she massages her temples tiredly. She needs something to happen—preferably without any more poisoning. She eyes the hooded man. What the hell is he doing here? Is he still swirling his wine? "Damn, doesn’t he have anything better to do?" She exhales in frustration, thoughts swirling in her mind as the wine swirls in the stranger's glass.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
The Tavern
The atmosphere in the tavern hums with tension. Rassel, still weak but stable, is helped to his feet by his friends, their murmured reassurances doing little to disguise the worried glances they throw toward Iromae and "Grantha"'s table. Whatever happened to him was unnatural, but for now, the immediate danger has passed.
Across the room, the hooded man’s glass tilts in slow circles, the deep red liquid catching the candlelight as it sloshes lazily. He hasn’t moved — hasn’t even acknowledged the situation beyond his cryptic interjections. But when Shenua's sharp gaze flickers toward him again, he seems to sense it.
Then, in one smooth motion, the figure stands, his glass lowering to the bar almost soundlessly.
The cloak sways as he moves, careful and deliberate, threading his way toward the door without urgency. A gloved hand dips into his cloak. There’s no obvious sign of a weapon, but the motion is intentional. Whether he means to leave unnoticed or is waiting to be stopped is unclear.
At the bar, the dragonborn bartender slams down a glass of water in front of Shenua. "One water, just as you like it. You’re looking tense, darling. Drink up before you break something."
Behind her, the hooded man is nearly at the exit.
The Guild Hall
The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind Diego, leaving the noise of the city outside. The familiar scents of parchment, oil, and metal fill the air, mingling with the ever-present hum of arcane energy that runs through the Guild Hall’s stabilizer chambers.
He moves forward, keeping to the shadows. The planar stabilizer room is just ahead — its reinforced door bathed in the soft, pulsing glow of containment runes. But there’s something else: a figure.
They are pressed close to the stabilizer room’s entrance, gloved fingers running along the edges of the door as if searching for something. The faintest whisper of movement suggests they’re working at the lock, but it’s not the clumsy effort of a common thief — this is practiced, methodical.
From the back, the figure appears tall and lean, dressed in a long, dark navy cloak that drapes over their shoulders and down to their calves. The material is well-made but unadorned, designed for function over fashion.
Their hood is raised, however, a few strands of pale, silvery-blonde hair escape from beneath the hood, faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the stabilizer runes.
Then — a soft click.
The door shifts ever so slightly. The figure is getting inside.
OOC: I know you're thinking that Shenua should be alerted if the figure is entering. I'd like to know what's going on in the half a second between this post and the alarm spell sounding.
Shenua arches a brow at the waitress's remark. "Well, darling, turns out I have every reason to be."
She takes a couple of sips, but as soon as the man stands up to leave, she quickly places a gold coin on the table to cover everyone's drinks and the cheese platter. Then, she turns to follow him with her gaze. The moment she notices his hand dipping into his cloak, she doesn’t think twice. She shares an urgent glance with Iromae and the disguised Vorenus, then grabs her lockpick. With a careful, measured flick of the wrist she summons an Eldritch Cannon in her hand.
The small weapon looks exactly like the one she showed her friends when they first met—only this time, she tilts it to the left instead of the right. When the gears settle into place, Shenua pockets the tiny cannon.
The moment the hooded man steps out of the tavern, the turquoise haired tiefling moves to follow. But she doesn’t go after him right away, giving him space so he doesn't notice he's being followed (hopefully).
Shenua summons her tiny Eldritch Cannon (force ballista version).
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
The Guild Hall
The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind Diego, leaving the noise of the city outside. The familiar scents of parchment, oil, and metal fill the air, mingling with the ever-present hum of arcane energy that runs through the Guild Hall’s stabilizer chambers.
He moves forward, keeping to the shadows. The planar stabilizer room is just ahead — its reinforced door bathed in the soft, pulsing glow of containment runes. But there’s something else: a figure.
They are pressed close to the stabilizer room’s entrance, gloved fingers running along the edges of the door as if searching for something. The faintest whisper of movement suggests they’re working at the lock, but it’s not the clumsy effort of a common thief — this is practiced, methodical.
From the back, the figure appears tall and lean, dressed in a long, dark navy cloak that drapes over their shoulders and down to their calves. The material is well-made but unadorned, designed for function over fashion.
Their hood is raised, however, a few strands of pale, silvery-blonde hair escape from beneath the hood, faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the stabilizer runes.
Then — a soft click.
The door shifts ever so slightly. The figure is getting inside.
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As Diego makes his way to the stabilizer room and well before getting close, he'll cast Invisibility upon himself. He watches as the figure works on the lock, thinking to himself "impressive", as the lock clicks he prepares the spell command and waits for the figure to trigger the alarm.
Tavern
The hooded figure steps past the threshold of the tavern, the night swallowing him in an instant. The flickering light from the torches outside does little to illuminate his features, but his movement remains precise — controlled.
Shenua lingers just long enough for the door to fully close before she follows, giving him space, ensuring he doesn’t immediately suspect he’s being shadowed.
Outside, the night air is crisp, carrying the distant sounds of carriages and murmuring voices. The streets of Suzail aren’t deserted, but they’re quiet enough for someone moving with purpose to stand out.
The figure turns down a narrow side street, weaving past a pair of late-night laborers unloading a cart. His hand remains inside his cloak, fingers curled around something unseen. Whether it’s a weapon, a magical focus, or something else entirely remains unclear.
For now, he doesn’t seem to have noticed Shenua. But if he’s as experienced as he seems, it’s only a matter of time before he checks his surroundings.
Guild Hall
The figure slips into the room, unaware that a magical alarm has been tripped.
Though no audible sound rings through the hall, a mental ping resonates in Shenua’s mind — wherever she is, she now knows that someone has entered the stabilizer room.
Inside the hall, Diego watches, invisible and patient, as the intruder moves with practiced precision. Now fully inside the stabilizer room, the figure does not hesitate. Their eyes — now partially visible beneath the hood — flick toward the central device, the planar stabilizer, which hums with a faint golden glow.
They produce something small from their belt — a tool, a vial, or perhaps a magical component, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. Carefully, they begin examining the stabilizer, searching for something.
The Street
Shenua’s steps are careful, measured, as she follows the hooded figure into the quiet side streets of Suzail. The night’s chill nips at her skin, but her focus remains steady.
And then — a jolt.
The mental alert from her alarm spell pulses through her mind, clear and undeniable. Someone has entered the stabilizer room.
Her instincts sharpen.
The hooded figure turns a corner, slipping into an alleyway.
Iromae stays with Rassel and his friends until they have him safely on his way out. She then joins the false Grantha at the table. "Well, this has certainly become an interesting evening," she says off-hand. But her attention is far more focused on Shenua. 'What is wrong with her? What exactly did she discover?' she wonders.
She doesn't have much time to wonder though as the hooded man soon sets out to leave. And Shenua looks to be just behind him. The man's hand slipping to grasp something catches her attention and she readies herself to respond with a spell if necessary. Then he is out the door. And after a pause, and the look from the tiefling, Shenua is out the door as well.
There's a bit of relaxation from the immediate potential for attack. She turns to the false Grantha. "We should follow her. But give her a bit of distance so we don't spoil her attempt at stealth." She knows that Stealth is not her strength. After another breath, she heads for the door as well.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Shenua’s breath catches when the mental alert goes off, and she freezes in the middle of the street. She needs to warn Iromae and Vorenus—they’ve seen her intentions, but they’re not in the street yet.
She assumes the hooded man will head to the Guild, but if he takes a more intricate route through the alleyways instead of a direct path, she wants to send a message before continuing her pursuit.
With that in mind, she looks down, grabs the first stone she sees, and traces a few of sigils with her lockpick. They shine brilliantly for a split second before settling into its surface. Holding the stone close to her lips, she murmurs, "The alarm has gone off. Go to the Guild directly. I will follow him."
Used Magical Tinkering on the stone.
Immediately afterward, she summons her spectral mage hand, places the tinkered stone in its grasp, and instructs it to hover just outside the door. Assuming Iromae or Vorenus will be the first to step out and that they will do so before the hand disappears because the tiefling has walked away far from it, they’ll stumble upon the floating hand and instantly recognize the sigils as her work. The moment one of them picks up the stone, the recorded message will play.
With the message ready, Shenua proceeds to follow the man, getting close to the walls of buildings so they can give her a bit of cover as she moves as silently as possible behind him.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Grathna immediately nods, standing, and grabbing anything that she left sitting, quickly pulling her cloak around her. She moves with Ironmae to the door, following behind Shenua. She opens the door for Ironmae and steps out onto the street, rapidly following Shenua. As Grathna steps into the street, she sees in the distance the fading figure of Shenua disappearing down an alleyway, and sees a floating hand with a small stone. The two of them hear the message, a sudden intake of breath as they learn that it is happening, right now!
Grathna turns to Ironmae, saying “Should we run, to the Guild? I worry about her, she could get in trouble on her own, that man seemed dangerous! Quickly, we must move!”
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
As the figure fumbles with it's belt Diego steps to door and clears his throat loudly, uhumm, 'ello love
After hearing the message with Vorenus, Iromae tries to recall where that alley Shenua went down might go. "Can we get to the Guild through that alley? If so, we should just both head that way?" She speaks aloud her though, both hoping Vorenus might know and hoping she would remember herself. "Otherwise maybe we split up to help both our friends?" It is not at all her first choice. But that hooded man was creepy and likely dangerous if Shenua had to deal with him alone. And if the alarm went off, Diego might need help! She wasn't sure what to do.
"What do you think?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Mind made up quickly, Vorenus/Grathna shakes his head at Ironmae. “She knowingly sent us there. She knows to the keep to the shadows and out of harms way. She has way more skill than I. Let’s both run to Diego, I am fearful of what is happening at the portal!” Grathna starts off in a run, dashing toward the guild, reversing their steps from earlier. She motions to Ironmae to come along and keep up, run with her.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Iromae nods at the decision, running to keep up with the false Grathna.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer