The Silent Runes of Suzail

Merienne goes still at the mention of Lirae. Unmoving except for her eyes, she listens to what the three of you have to say. Not visibly tense — but attentive in a way that sharpens her entire presence.

“The south crawl entrance ...” she repeats softly, more to herself than to you. Then her eyes lift back to Shenua. “Yes. That would bypass the outer ward. Lirae was not exaggerating.”

A brief pause follows, her thoughts clearly moving faster than her words.

“And you lost her,” she repeats, not as an accusation, but as a point being placed carefully on a board. She stares as if trying to read your minds.

Her gaze shifts slightly, unfocusing for just a moment — recalculating. Then she exhales. “That complicates things,” she admits.

She steps away from the table and begins pacing slowly, fingers brushing lightly along the back of a chair as she thinks.

“The Feathered Silence is layered,” she continues. “The outer ward filters for obvious arcane signatures and unregistered enchantments. Bypassing it through the service entrance solves your first problem.” She glances back at them. “It does not solve the second.”

She stops.

“Inside, movement is controlled by routing sigils: Small, enchanted markers issued to staff and authorized personnel. They do not merely grant access — they justify your presence. Without one, you are not simply ‘out of place.’ You are flagged.” Her tone sharpens slightly. “And flagged individuals are remembered.”

“You will not be able to improvise your way through that layer. Not for long.”

She studies Shenua for a moment, then asks: “Did Lirae give you anything at all? A token, a phrase, a marking? Or only the promise of those sigils?”

After you reply that she did not, Merienne nods once, as though confirming her expectation.

“Then you have two options,” she says, turning fully back to face the group.

“Either you acquire valid routing sigils as Lirae seems to have planned ...” her eyes flick briefly toward the folio and the discussion of the courier, “... or you become someone who does not require them.”

She lets that sit for a moment before continuing.

“The second option is more dangerous. It means attaching yourselves to someone who already has unquestioned access. A patron. A household. Someone whose presence explains yours.”

Her gaze lingers briefly on Vorenus — not by accident, but in quiet assessment — before moving on.

“Those individuals will be watched more closely. But they will not be questioned immediately.”

She folds her hands again.

“As for whether I can help you ...” A faint, knowing expression returns. “I cannot give you sigils. If I could, I would not need people like you.” A pause. “But I can refine what you already have.”

Her eyes drift briefly toward the garments still in progress. “If you complete the second task ... your mirrorcraft will not merely conceal you from casual notice. It will help you belong, at least long enough to act.” Then, more quietly: “And belonging, in a place like that, is often more valuable than permission.”

She tilts her head slightly. “So. Your path is clear enough.” Her gaze settles evenly across all three. “Recover the document. Return before nightfall. And then we will decide what, exactly, you are going to be when you walk into the Feathered Silence.”

A faint pause.

“Because walking in as yourselves is no longer an option.”

Shenua lets out a relieved breath when Merienne finishes her explanation.

"I was worried for a moment there that the plan had fallen apart. I'm curious which patron or household you'd recommend we attach ourselves to, but it's probably best not to dwell on that for now. I'll be happy if the mirrorcraft is enough."

When the seamstress mentions building up some kind of identities for the ball, she tilts her head curiously.

"So we're going to… what? Roleplay? (😝) I mean, it's not exactly my forte, but I'll do my best."

The tiefling looks toward Vorenus and Iromae. "Shall we go, then? Let's leave Merienne to her work."

Vorenus nods and says "I am ready.  Should I put on the disguise now, or wait until we are in position?  Perhaps afterward we can rendezvous in our safe house, then return here.  We can make next steps of the plan then.  Anything else?"  Vorenus tries to gauge time of day and distance to the interception point, listening to Merienne's advice about whether to go ahead and get in disguise.  

Iromae too looks a bit relieved when it seems Merienne would be able to help. They of course still have a task to accomplish. She nods to Shenua. "Ready," she says. 

Merienne watches the three of you as the plan settles into something actionable, her expression smoothing back into its usual composed neutrality.

At Shenua’s remark, there is the faintest hint of a smile — not unkind, but knowing. “Yes,” she says simply. “Roleplay.” She adjusts a length of fabric on the nearby table, her hands moving with absent precision as she speaks. “You are not becoming different people. You are becoming believable versions of people who belong where you are standing. There is a difference. Do not overcomplicate it.”

Her eyes flick briefly toward Shenua. “Confidence will carry more weight than accuracy.”

Then, to Vorenus, as he asks about the disguise: “Wait.” The answer is immediate. “If you walk the streets already disguised, you increase the number of people who can later say, ‘I saw that face.’ Limit exposure. Become the courier only when it matters.”

She steps closer to the three of you again, her tone shifting back to something more practical.

“From here to the Registry Hall is not far, but give yourselves time to observe before acting. Watch the route. Watch the people. Let the rhythm of the place settle into you before you disrupt it.” A slight pause. “And eat,” she adds, almost as an afterthought. “Mistakes multiply when you are tired or distracted.”

Her gaze settles evenly across all three of you one last time.

“You have a workable plan. Do not try to make it perfect. Execute it cleanly.”

She inclines her head just slightly — not quite a bow, but something close enough to serve.

“Return with the document before nightfall.” A beat. “And then,” she says, her voice quieter now, “we will decide who you are at the ball.”

With that, she steps back, already turning her attention toward her work as though the conversation has concluded — trusting you to either succeed ... or not return at all.

As the trio step back into the streets, Shenua's eyes are already scanning for a place where they can grab something to eat — both for now and something they can nibble on later that night, when they'll (hopefully) snatch the document for Merienne. She looks for food that's filling but also energizing: something meaty, perhaps, along with some fruit. And coffee. Lots of coffee. Or at least as much as they can carry back to the safehouse.

"I'm assuming we're eating this at the safehouse, right? I think this and a power nap would do me good."

Once there, she doesn't do much. She goes through her belongings, making sure everything is in order. She leaves once again her magical items behind — especially the tuning fork. She won't feel entirely safe carrying them until she's dressed in Merienne's mirrorcraft.

After getting some rest — and leaving enough time to scout the route beforehand — she's ready to head back out.

“I still have one spell left today. I could use it to disguise myself if necessary. But I won't do that just yet. Maybe after we scout the route and feel a bit more comfortable with the plan, we can decide. Perhaps it is better to save it in case something goes wrong with the courier and we need to resort to magic."

Iromae's thoughts are occupied by the task they must accomplish once they leave the shop. But Shenua's comment brings her back to more practical matters. "Oh yea, something to eat. Sure, maybe good to eat at the safehouse."  She is in agreement with her choice of food, getting some for herself as well.  

Back at the safehouse, she is still unwilling to give up her holy symbol but is in agreement about not bringing her quill, just as Shenua left her tunic fork behind. "I'm not sure I have any spells prepared that will help with our deception."  She thinks on it a moment, then adds, "I still think magic is a last resort. I was almost sure using magic to track down that thread would get me noticed immediately. It didn't. And I don't think the other spells you guys used was detected. Although, it's hard to really say. How would we know?"  She sighs. "In any case, my recommendation would be to save any magic for a last resort."  

"Having said that, I've no idea how I will disguise myself this time," she says in a worried tone.  "I suppose we make do with non-magical means as much as we can." 

Vorenus nods at Shenua’s mention of food, his mind losing track of time he suddenly realizes how hungry he is.  “Yes, let’s grab something and head back to the house.  Suddenly I’m famished!”  He walks along quietly, eyes flitting in between Shenua and Iromae, thinking and tapping his chin as he walks.  They walk along the route, tracing out where they will be waiting, looking for spots where they can observe the route, hide if needed, and determine a rallying point to run to in case all hell breaks loose.  After the pick up some food along the way, they head back to the safe house to gather and rest, thinking through last minute portions of the plan.  

When Iromae expresses her worries, Vorenus pulls out his disguise kit and when she is ready, he begins to use it on her, on Shenua too to help with their disguise, subtle changes to enhance the appearance and the fit of the part.  “I’ll plan to use some magic to make the disguise for me the most believable, and I plan on concentrating on this fellow and charming him, it will help with our success.  But that’s it, nothing more.  Nothing that could be seen by an outside observer, but an advantage to us to pull this off.  We’ll do just fine..”. 

After finishing, Vorenus sits down for a moment for a short rest, concentrating and relaxing, closing his eyes and putting himself in a mindset to pull this off.  When he finishes, he stands, takes one last bite of an apple that he set aside and says “Let’s be off.  Everyone ready?”  He has used the disguise kit on himself as well to subtly change some of his facial features a bit, but nothing much.  He’s going to rely on his magic to do the majority of the illusion for this particular courier, after they get near the spot.  

The streets receive you easily.

Late morning in Suzail is a living thing — busy, layered, and indifferent to the quiet tension coiled beneath your purpose. Vendors call from shaded stalls, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread curling through the air. It does not take long for Shenua to lead you to what she is looking for: skewers of seasoned meat, still warm from the coals, a small sack of dried fruit, and a bitter, dark brew being poured from a dented kettle into travel flasks.

It is not elegant fare. But it is filling. And it is enough.

Soon, the safehouse greets you in stillness. Inside, the noise of the city dulls to a distant murmur. The space feels smaller now — not physically, but in awareness of what lies ahead. This is no longer a place to hide indefinitely. It is a place between actions.

You eat. You prepare.

Shenua organizes with quiet efficiency, setting aside what cannot risk being seen. Iromae keeps her holy symbol, its presence grounding even as uncertainty presses in. Vorenus works with practiced hands, his disguise kit moving with confidence born from familiarity.

The results are subtle, but effective.

Small changes to Iromae’s features soften recognition: a slight shift in contour, a change in how light catches her face. Shenua’s appearance gains just enough alteration to break immediate familiarity. Nothing dramatic. Nothing memorable.

Exactly as it should be.

Vorenus’ work lands cleanly in that crucial space between noticeable effort and natural variation. Anyone looking closely might see people. No one glancing would see the same people.

Time passes. Not long, but enough.

(You achieve a short rest.)

The brief rest steadies nerves, sharpens thought, and takes the edge off fatigue. Outside, the sun continues its slow climb, inching the day toward the moment that matters.

When you step back out, the air feels different — not because it has changed, but because now you are moving with intent.

The route to the Registry Hall reveals itself as Merienne described. The streets narrow slightly in this district, the architecture growing more formal, more deliberate. Movement here is purposeful. Couriers, clerks, and attendants pass through with documents in hand, their pace steady, their eyes forward.

And there — the chokepoint. A natural constriction where two streets meet before opening again toward the administrative quarter. Traffic slows there, just slightly. Enough for friction. Enough for opportunity.

You take your time observing.

Patterns emerge. Couriers tend to walk alone. Most carry satchels or folios are secured but not guarded. Interruptions happen, but are brief, resolved quickly, and with minimal attention.

No one wants to be delayed here. No one wants to be noticed here.

As the sun begins its slow descent toward afternoon, you find your positions. You have time to settle, to breathe, and to commit.

Before we proceed, I need the following from each of you:

• Where is each of you positioned relative to the chokepoint?
• Who plans to initiate the interaction, and how?
• Any last-minute adjustments to the plan?

Description of the chokepoint:

(ooc: I think Shenua would be positioned in the less visible spot, since she's the one that is goint to accidentaly bump into Halver Tonn. So, in my mind, she shouldn't be wandering in the chokepoint and should appear there at the last moment.

According to the plan, Vorenus should be there because he is a regular courier doing his job, and Iromae should approach him because she thinks she got her grocery list mixed with his papers, right?

Taking all that into account, I'd say Shenua will be in the spot that offers most cover (the recessed alcove), and once Iromae and Vorenus do their stuff, she will appear out of nowhere and then bump into Halver Tonn.)

After final plans, Vorenus will find an out of the way spot to cast disguise self on himself to take on the appearance of a messenger, completing the look.  After they agree upon location and plan, they will only look to each other and nod, or use subtle hand signals to indicate timing.  In a pinch, message could be used, but this will be avoided.  Vorenus plans to approach and pause at the corner post, with the hanging notice board, pretending to look for another courier gig.  He holds the duped message folio sloppily, acting as if he’s in a hurry and distracted.  

When the target Halver Tonn approaches, he will take one of the notices and hold it in his hand like he is reading it, looking forward to his next job, and then half reading / half walking keeping his eyes on the target he will bump into him, eyes flashing over to Shenua and Iromae to approach at the same time.  When they get very close, Vorenus will steer himself to hit the message folio that Halver is carrying, aiming to knock it down.  As he does so, he’ll be in the middle of saying something to himself, distracted and excited about this possible new job on the listing.  When he hits, he will hit hard, maybe even knocking him into the ground, walking at high speed.  He aims for that folio, hoping that it will pop out.  When they stoop to gather themselves and their paperwork, this is when Vorenus will speak. 

Vorenus is going to use a meta magic point (subtle spell) to cast charm person without verbal or somatic components on Halver, gaining his cooperation and enforcing the idea that there has been a mixup in paperwork.  Shenua and Iromae will find the grocery list for The Gilded Lyre, Vorenus will focus on placing his folio on top of Halver and breaking the seal, finding the message inside and putting it in his folio and slipping the other parchment inside of his folio.  He smiles and appears embarrassed, giving him an odd look as he casts the spell silently, unknown to others.  ((The last piece of the plan would be to write on the parchment, with Merienne, some bogus “message” that would be nonsense.  The grocery list just adds to the confusion and allows Iromae and Shenua to help.  The false message will go into Halver’s folio while Vorenus takes the real one.))

“Oh my word, I was so preoccupied, I’m sorry my good man, has never happened before, oh look at this what a mess!  My goodness, what a kerfuffle!”  Vorenus starts and then Shenua and Iromae will interject, talking about the Gilded Lyre, if Halver starts to look too closely they’ll “find” the grocery list and shove it in his face, etc.  Vorenus will add to it by talking about the job posting.  

This is how Vorenus sees it going down.  His compliance with what occurs is molded with the charm… 

Shenua waits in the recessed alcove, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, when Vorenus springs into action. She looks a little surprised to see that it's him who bumps into Halver—she had thought she would be the one to do it—but no matter. She quickly adjusts and rushes toward the two couriers, the real one and the fake.

Kneeling beside Halver, she leans in close, concern written all over her face. "Oh my word! Are you alright? That was quite the collision!"

Playing the part of a worried passerby, Shenua takes Halver's hands in hers as she checks on him. (ooc: hoping this helps the switch—keeping his focus on her and his hands occupied) When he answers, she helps him back to his feet, steadying him carefully. 

Then she turns sharply toward the other courier,  shooting him an angry look. "This is unbelievable! You could have hurt him, you know!?"

She glances back at Halver, her tone softening again. "Honestly, it's amazing how rude people can be, isn't it?"

(ooc: I'll pause here and let Iromae jump in)

By the time the group is ready to head out, Iromae seems rather calm and collected. She had eaten and rested and then sat patiently as Vorenus helped disguise her appearance a bit. Much of the time she spent in silent prayer to Deneir, mostly seeking the ability to keep her mind focused. But she also prayed her god might keep them safe in this endeavor. They headed out with Vorenus carrying the false message bag. 

It's an easy walk until they can just see the choke point coming ahead. And Iromae realizes she is still holding the supposed shopping list. 'No, no, no. This isn't right,' she thinks. 'This should be in Vorenus' bag, right?' The three of them had started to separate already, moving so as to not appear to be a group still. Suddenly her calm is gone, replaced by an anxious worry. 'Well, it will just have to work as it is,' she tells herself. She slips the paper away where it can't be seen but she can easily slip it out later.

Shenua moves to the one somewhat inconspicuous spot to stop on the right side. Vorenus heads for the corner post before the choke point, a plausible place to tarrry for a bit without suspicion.  It leaves Iromae to keep on moving past that spot. Her nervousness grows. She's going to have to just hang out more in the street. She can keep to the wall on the right, completely exposed. Completely out of place of the traffic moving through the place.  'Ok. I just have to play the part of someone looking for her lost list. Shouldn't be hard to look frantic," she thinks as she tries not to linger still too long, but just keeps walking down one way, then the next as she waits for the signal.  

When Vorenus finally does signal, it is a bit of relief actually. She starts to move towards Vorenus, but is a bit shocked when he runs into the courier. 'Wasn't that supposed to be Shenua doing that? Oh no, no, no!'  Though concerned, she tries not to worry too much. As she gets closer, she looks at Vorenus. "Sir! Sir! I think you mistakenly have my order list for ingredients for the Gilded Lyre! They must get to the grocers!" 

The moment begins — and immediately, it refuses to go cleanly.

Halver Tonn is exactly where Merienne said he would be. He approaches from the eastern lane with steady, practiced efficiency, a leather courier’s satchel strapped diagonally across his chest rather than carried loosely in hand. That alone is the first complication — the folio is secured. Not impossible to access, but not something that will simply spill free on impact.

His pace is brisk. His posture upright. His eyes forward.

And then ... Vorenus moves.

The collision is real. Solid. Enough to stagger Halver a half-step back — but not enough to knock him sprawling. Not enough to send documents flying.

The satchel holds.

A second complication.

Halver’s hand immediately comes up to steady the strap across his chest, instinct sharp and trained. His eyes snap to Vorenus — alert, not confused.

“Watch where —”

Then Shenua is there.

Hands on his. Voice soft. Concern immediate.

That hesitation — that moment of divided attention — is exactly what you need.

But Halver is not unguarded.

He pulls one hand free, not roughly, but with purpose, already scanning — Vorenus, then Shenua, then Iromae approaching with urgency. His attention is splitting in three directions, but not collapsing.

“I’m fine,” he says, clipped, controlled. “Just —”

Then Iromae enters the chaos.

The grocery list.

The Gilded Lyre.

Now there are too many threads.

Halver frowns. Not confusion: suspicion beginning to form.

“I don’t have your —”

Vorenus acts.

The subtle magic slips in cleanly. No gesture. No word.

But Halver’s will is not weak. The result is not immediately obvious, but Vorenus feels the magic slip away.

A pause.

A narrowing of the eyes.

A recalibration.

“... your list?” Halver repeats, slower now.

His grip tightens slightly on the satchel strap.

Third complication.

Two uniformed city clerks — not guards, but close enough — are approaching from behind Halver, engaged in conversation but closing distance rapidly. Within seconds, they will be within clear earshot.

And a fourth —

From the far end of the chokepoint, another courier has stopped. Watching — not intervening, but watching.

Halver shifts his stance slightly now, angling his body so the satchel is less exposed. Not aggressive — but protective.

“You three,” he says, voice low but firm, “seem to be having a very specific kind of problem.”

His gaze lands squarely on Vorenus. “Open your folio.”

Not a request.

Around you, movement continues — but slower now. Attention beginning to gather in small, dangerous ways.

This is no longer a clean exchange.

This is a moment on the edge of becoming something much worse.

Iromae is beside herself. 'We didn't even knock him over!' she thinks. 'Shenua seems completely out of place! I probably sound phony. He's not acting at all like any spell worked. And... we're being watched!" But her worries do not stop her from continuing to act. "I wasn't talking to you! It's this man!" she calls out loudly, reaching for Vorenus' bag to grab it. She just hopes the distraction might both thwart his request to open his folio and maybe give one of her companions an opening to act. "The Gilded Lyre must get the proper ingredients! The chef will be so mad!" 

Shenua suddenly turns toward Iromae, feigning shock at what she's just heard. "You work at the Gilded Lyre? And your ingredient list is missing? Gods above—" She brings her hands to her cheeks, the gesture amplifying her concern. "I had a friend working there once. She mixed up a single order and was fired on the spot. I don't envy your situation."

As she notices the city clerks approaching, she turns to them with a reassuring smile. "Nothing we can't handle, good sirs!"

Then, pivoting back to Vorenus and Halver, her tone sharpens just enough to take control. "Look, we're causing a scene. Why don't we step aside and let people pass, and sort out this business with the Gilded Lyre's list properly?"

If Halver hesitates or tries to step away saying this is not his business, she fixes him with a pointed look. "You're both couriers in service to the Crown, aren't you? If the Gilded Lyre files a complaint because their delivery was delayed, that will reflect poorly on all of you." A brief pause. "Best to lend a hand, don't you think?"

Shenua takes hold of Halver's arm—firmly enough to guide, not force—and begins leading him, along with Vorenus and Iromae, toward the recessed alcove.

She casts one last glance at the clerks. "We'll handle it ourselves. Thank you. Keep up your good work!"

(ooc: The goal is to clear the chokepoint and reduce attention, isolating Halver with us so we can recover control of the situation.)

Vorenus stands up straight, nearly falling and his hand holding the job listing goes to his head, and staggering for a second, he allows the papers (including the grocery list) to peek out of his messenger bag, flapping free for a moment as he holds his head.  “Whoa, hey my man, I’m sorry!  I was so excited about this next job…I didn’t even see you!  Honest mistake!”  He allows Shenua to pull him toward the alcove, while muttering “all mixed up here…” and holding his head.  His eyes dart quickly to Shenua and Iromae, he sees the looks of worry and frustration on their faces.  That didn’t go as planned… I’ve got to…

He concentrates on Halver again, seeing the others starting to approach, his eyes lock on Halver and with a smile and an off putting laugh, he says “So sorry, we really got mixed up, didn’t we!  I think we got all tangled up …”. And he uses his metamagic again to cast a subtle spell on Halver, feeling the forces of chaos welling up within him, he surges the magic to have its effect on the man, willing him to comply with their explanations.  He casts charm person on the man again, hoping for a better outcome.  Now or never.  If this doesn’t work, we may have a snatch and grab situation…

The moment hangs on a knife’s edge.

Halver’s eyes are still sharp. Still measuring. Still thinking ... and then Vorenus pushes again.

The second wave of magic slips in quieter than the first, riding the confusion already in motion: Iromae’s frantic insistence, Shenua’s social pressure, the physical redirection toward the alcove, the public attention beginning to build.

Halver’s focus fractures, and Vorenus feels the click.

You see it happen.

Not dramatically. Not like a puppet with cut strings.

But the tension in his shoulders eases — just slightly. His grip on the satchel loosens a fraction. His eyes, still alert, lose that hard edge of suspicion and settle into something more ... cooperative. More willing to accept.

“... yes,” he mutters, as if arriving at the conclusion himself. “Mixed up.”

He allows Shenua to guide him as he watches Vorenus moving along in tandem.

This is the turning point.

"I'm glad to see you've come to an agreement!" Shenua says, keeping her gaze on Halver with a friendly expression so he continues to feel at ease. Not quite among friends, perhaps, but certainly not among enemies.

Then she turns to Iromae. "It might be your lucky day after all. I'm happy for you."

And for all of us!!

The turquoise-haired tiefling doesn't say anything more, letting the disguised Vorenus to proceed with the exchange of folios — and, hopefully, make a clean exit before the spell wears off.

Vorenus smiles at Halver as they eddy out in the alcove, giving him a friendly touch on the shoulder and smiling, "Thanks!  Busy afternoon.. I just was all excited about this next gig (holding up the job posting), I wasn't watching where I was going, I apologize that we got all mixed up.  I think we even mixed up our folios!"  Vorenus straightening his up as he's talking..he turns to look at Shenua and Iromae as strangers, "Oh uh, hullo!  I don't know what you're talking about with a restaurant list, lady, but I hope it works out for you..hey, maybe we should all have lunch together sometime!"  Vorenus is holding his folio up beside the one that Halver is carrying, eyeing his chances and the opportunity, how well this is being received...