Toc looks at Tic, and subtley points at him. A moment later Tic nods and walks away.  A few minutes later he returns with a crystal ball, wrapped in a cloth.  He hands it to Mirica. 

Toc sits down, tapping his finger in his chin. "Aldlas had quite a bit of information about the power structure under Verdant Cloud. He was a micromanager. If we're looking to smother some of her underlings, then I'd suggest a good one may be a goblin named Gorig. His goal is to raid and gather magical items and gold for her. He apparently is operating in the northern forests between Hillsfar and Voonlar. It is a vast region, but she mentions meeting him near the village of Thalandra. It's an elven village, and I know where to find it. There is no teleportation circle around there I'm aware of, and I don't know the place well enough to take us there with magic. I'd suggest we travel overland, either on horses or some other way. Another option is a demon known as X'almar'tok, whom seemed was given unto Verdant Cloud's care by Aldlas. Last correspondence from Verdant Cloud to Aldlas says that he was heading for Duathamper Fortress, and ancient fallen Elven fortress. Aldlas seemed to suspect that one of the ancient elfblades was lost there in battle and sent the demon to retrieve it. If you would like I can dig up a few more options for us. Getting to Duathamper Fortress will also require some travel. Either south from Elmwood, either on foot through the forest, or by boat down the Duathamper river a few days...or northwest from Harrowdale."

Mirica looks to the group, "I will need to wait until the morning to attempt to scry on Ezhia." 

     "First though is Gorig.  Never did like goblins over much and if we can cut out one of VC's lieutenants and recover much gold and magical items..." Fianna speculates. "Well that's all kinds of winning, isn't it?"

"I have never gotten the hang of gold but I will go to this Gorig with you if that is the goal. Do we wish to speak with him and rob him, or have him arrested, or perhaps something more fatal? One goblin seems a poor match for this group." Jezun says, looking at each party member. "Then again, perhaps he has help, and this is a worthy task to weaken this wannabe regime. Shall we go seek him out today?"

"It's a bit too late for expedition, unless we plan to camp outside the city by the gates for some reason. Do we?" She looked at Toc. "If not, do not mind to search for the goblins tomorrow. Though... As annoying and dangerous as they can be, they are forced to the dragon's servitude. Freed from the influence they make an acceptable neighbors, useful even. I suspect it will be - an attempt to talk, than defend ourselves from attack and inevitable killing of many of them. But who knows, may be we can be diplomatic enough?"

Mirica did not mind any direction for tomorrow travel, said all she had to say an now was thinking about Ezhia, trying to remember their unfortunate meeting in details.

Scrying

The next morning the party wakes up in their individual rooms within the dimensional mansion. Jezun having a lovely appointed guest room. The blankets or huge and puffy and warm, the sheets perfectly white and clean, silk. The side tables are polished cherry wood perfect and new, the four post beds are king sized and solid. The ceilings are white, the walls covered in white paper that has subtle silvery leaf print. The floors are covered in a plush dense carpet. Everything is clean and perfect. 

The smell of a breakfast banquet wafts up from below.  In addition to the usual smells of fruit, and baked ham, there's a lovely additional smell of roasted coffee.  As you emerge you see Tic ferrying in various bits of food and drink from outside.  He glances up with an awkward smile, "Lacy has me delivering breakfast goods. The crumpets are particularly good, as is the coffee...or so I've been told." 

Sitting in the oversized dining room on plush covered wooden chairs, around the massive wooden table covered in dishes and food, the group enjoys a lovely relaxing morning. The doors that fill one end of the room are filled with frosted glass, through which a bluish light of day shines....though the doors do not open and the light is clearly an illusion. Regardless it makes it feel very light and open in the room, and less like a magical cave stuck in basement under the ground. 

When people are starting to sip and nibble and the meal is done, Mirica heads off to perform her scrying magic. Everyone else discusses the travel plans for the day. Tic reports that it appears to be a sunny, warm day on the southern coast of Moonsea. 

Mirica returns to her room, sitting in the soft bed and placing the crystal ball down on the comforter in front of her. She begins focusing her magical energy on the clear perfect sphere, and she seeks out that creature known as Ezhia. 13 . The magic wavers and shimmers...and then dissipates with no effect. 

Mirica came to the breakfast table concerned and disappointed (the latter she tried to hide, though). "I was not able to do it - to scry on Ezhia. There was magic but... it just fizzled. Probably I am just not good at this thing. May be if me or Fianna describe the man well enough Jahren or you, Toc, can try and find him?"

She ignored the coffee, despite the truly rich delicious smell, and pour herself tea with milk. "Did we decide where we are going to start?"

     "I don't believe you aren't good enough," Fianna says to her friend reassuringly.  "There could be any number of reasons the scry did not work.  He could have some kind of protection from such observations, I know there are spells and amulets and such that would do it.  Or he could be dead...  Or just on a different plane of..."  Fianna suddenly pauses and brushes her fingers through her hair (thankfully not obstructed by antlers in the least!) in a sense of realization.

     "We are on a different plane.  So that means he is on a different plane of existence than we are!  You did the spell inside the mansion, yes?  I should have thought of this before you even tried. I'm sorry...  We should try again outside of the mansion!  There could still be ways for it to not work but I promise it won't be due to your skills."

     Toc should have thought of it, Fianna thinks to himself.  That man is smart as a whip and has had years more of practicing the craft than I have.  But Fianna was really just trying to stop herself from blaming herself.  It was an obvious oversight that she felt embarrassed about and it was easier to blame someone else.

     "I'll be with you when you try again," Fianna assures Mirica. "I don't know if it will help at all but I saw him too and we were together when we encountered him so maybe us being together again would give us a bit of cosmic balance for the next attempt."

Jezun is a bit out of his element in such luxury, but he politely enjoys the meal, refraining from coffee, however. When Mirica has trouble with scrying, he offers to help any way he can. Moral support is really all he can offer, but it's there. He pauses and says, "How did you meet this person again?"

Toc speaks up in response to Fianna's points, "You are completely correct. The scrying spell does not function across planes. So...yes, casting the spell from within this demi-plane does indeed won't work. I should have mentioned that for certain, I must be distracted this morning. Mirica, do you plan to try again this morning, perhaps from within the main house, or are we all on our way to the stables to get horses and head west to look for this goblin?" 

"Tsk! Of course." Mirica was disappointed in herself - missing the demiplane part was understandable, but the sun! "Wrong plane and false sunlight! I had to think about it". She shook her head. "Yes, I would like to try again, Toc, if only to be sure we did everything that was possible. The window upstairs - what side is it? Is there one to the east? Hope there is enough light there even if not."

She hugged the crystal ball again and walked outside the room to the "real" part of the house. Scrying on the streets of this city did not look wise. On the way she explained to Jezun how they met Ezhia: "Fianna and I found him in the woods, preparing several elves to be transported to the local slave-market. Lovely fellow. Animal lover too - keeps a couple of cute displacer beast puppies and watches over young dragons. Fianna played with them a bit - with puppies, not dragons." Mirica was getting angrier and more sarcastic the more she remembered their brief meeting. "From what we could get, he would not mind to change the master but would not do anything for freedom himself".

"Well, that would have to do." She found the most well lit spot in the house and placed the ball in the ray of a real sun now. "Fianna, any tips now would be welcomed. Let's try it again."

 Fianna follows Mirica out and chimes in several times to clarify or expand on the explanation she gives Jezun of their meeting with Ezhia. 

     "He was preparing the slaves, not us..."

     "No so much puppies..."

     "No loyalty, just a mercenary type.  All about himself..."

     Fianna would do what she could to help set up the area for the spell, as well as to calm her friend.  "Anger does not help.  Clarify your mind and focus on all you know about the spell and it's target.  Calm yourself and allow the magics to flow.  This is a tricky and fickle spell in the best of times and there is a lot that can ruin it's flow.  It's great if the spell finds the target, if it does not we're no worse off than now and all is still well.  It could just be the fates way of letting us know that he should not be the target for now... Or maybe we are just rushing too much.  Do you know... Could you tell...  Did the spell fail or did he resist it?  If the magic mansion is what ruined the casting then we should be ready to try again. But if your casting is like mine used to be for this spell, if he resisted it then he's unlikely to be able to be targeted again for some time."

((If Mirica believes the target resisted the Scrying then Fianna will give her a guy and suggest she try again tomorrow - End of Post.  But if Mirica believes the spell fizzled due to not being on the same plane then see below.))

     "Ok, every little bit helps," Fianna says and as she does she changes her appearance.  Her face, her hair, her clothing flicker and ripple and change as she uses Mask of Many Faces to Disguise Self into the very best image of Ezhia that she could picture.  "Is this right?" Fianna would ask and over the next couple of minutes she and Mirica would discuss tweaks and adjustments to the image until they agree they have the best approximation that they can come up with.  

     "Focus on the spell.  Use this image to focus on the target...  And keep your calm and send your senses out..."

The evening before...

After meeting Jezun, listening to Toc's presentation, discussing option with the group and perhaps some supper, Jahren heads back out on the town in the later part of the evening.  Choosing to avoid the eyes of the watchers across the way on this one, he teleports to somewhere out of sight upon his departure instead of leaving through the front door.  The bard also decides to go out as a human this time, and thus uses illusory magic to alter his appearance.

Jahren hopes to give the High Mage and his purple vested help a chance to see him and pick him up.  He stops into some of the more prominent taverns just briefly, not drinking any alcohol and dropping a very nice tip for the bartender if he needs to bluff on why he's there by asking for someone that doesn't exist or something of the sort.  He makes his way up through the center of the city and around the area of the capital building or anywhere else he thinks the High Mage and those loyal to him might frequent.

All the while Jahren is vigilant in watching over his shoulder for more followers and is more than ready to defend himself with magic or teleport away if assaulted.

"Calm yourself"... It was easier said than done. Mirica took a deep breath and tried to reached the required meditative mindset when Fianna changed her face. By the gods! Fianna did get his look right down the last stubble and that unnerving horizontal "blink". The face of the enemy jolted Mirica out of her calm state and she had to begin again, concentrating on the light, trying to feel it's warmth and purity.

"This is not spell, Fianna. At least not for me - would not know a thing about true magic." Mirica almost sung those words like a mantra, getting her breath more even. "I can only pray for the answer or the vision. Should be God willing to grant me my request - I will see what I need to see. If not - probably it means I was supposed to search myself, without disturbing the Lord with such plea."

She concentrated and looked deep into the crystal ball again.

Mirica, in the upstairs bedroom facing the sun just shining in through the south west facing window, focuses, assisted by Fianna's transformation into her query. 19. She focuses on the crystal, but as she quests around, she can feel something resisting her spell....something tenacious and slippery, and moments later the spell ends without seeing more than the upside view of the window reflecting in the crystal ball. 

-----------

The Previous Evening

Jahren wanders the town, avoiding the prying eyes of their watchers. The city is quite pleasant for someone who looks human and he gets nods from patrolling Red Plumes, and glances from girls and in general has an enjoyable, rather warm summer evening in Hillsfar.  Though to his disappointment, neither the high mage nor his purple vested envoys seek him out this night. 

------------

When the group eventually departs Toc's home, Jezun is pleased to discover the air outside is warm, and the sun is bright in the sky.  He follows the group as they walk to the western gates through the press of the busy northern metropolis. It doesn't take long to move through the press of people filling the streets. Jezun watches the members of the group closely. They are in a large group, and there appear to be no pretences about their race as they stride through town, well armed, and each sporting gear that would be suitable for a king. 

Jahren the half elf seems simultaneously always aware of everything around him, while also being completely at ease. Jezun figures this man would likely be calm in the center of a massive war. He wears a fine set of half-plate made of some very fine grey metal that seemed much lighter than steel, though he did his best to conceal it beneath his cloak and other clothing. He has a bandore on his back that looks like a work of art, next to a bound and rolled up carpet of all things. Strapped across all of that is a shield wrapped in a thin sheet, though occasionally a glint of gold and gems peeks through a small bit.  In his hand he walks with his staff that looks a plain, though nicely carved affair. 

Mirica, the priest of Lathander, seems also at ease, as much as many of this group, steeped in fighting and worldly experience, the sharp featured human woman has an impressive hammer swinging at her side, and a shield that looks to be made of white dragon scales, though from a dragon that must have been massive. She wears a finely wrought breastplate under her vestments and wears traveling boots of elven make. 

Fianna, the fey half-elf has orangish-red hair and green eyes and is a striking creature to behold. People on the street stop and gawk, her half-elven heritage making them sneer in jealousy at her pure beauty and carefree way about her. She doesn't wear armor, but does wear a robe of exquisite make and fantastic fabric adorned with silvery ruins. She carries a staff that practically shimmers with power, carried in a relaxed way at her side. She walks with a pair of new boots on her feet that she occasionally glances down at with a small smile. 

Sebastion, the silvery half-dragon, is a fearsome image to behold. He wears a suit of chain mail armor the looks magical very finely made, a tall shield made of fine steel and painted with his family sigil. The handle of a silvered sword juts out of it's scabbard at his side. 

Finally there are Tic and Toc.  Both carry staves and wear nothing but light elven clothing. Puffy flowing shirts and tight form fitting pants under a blue robe for Toc and a green robe for Tic. They both have fine elven rapiers at their sides, though Toc's looks to shimmer with energy. Likewise the staff that Toc holds makes the are around here feel tight, such is it the presence of the staff. Most people would not notice it, but like Fianna's staff, it strikes Jezun as a singular and powerful magical artifact. 

Jezun notices Jahren casually look behind them several times on the way to the stables, though glancing back can not spot anything of interest. He'd be willing to be that Jahren is keeping tabs on a tail though. 

The stable yards occupy a large area outside the main gates. It's a large property set aside for stabling horses and storing wagons, dotted with warehouses for incoming and outgoing caravaners to work from.  Toc leads them to a section where seven horses are tied to the fencing, saddled and ready to go with several stable hands sitting around nearby.  Mirica immediately approaches a dappled grey mare and gives her face a pet, the horse reacting favourably.  Fianna walks up to a brown and white mare, and pets it, saying in a cheerful voice, "Hello Winsock!"  Likewise all the other horses are claimed except for a stalky black stallion a nut brown mare.  Tic walks over while Toc is talking to the yard manager. "Sebastion, this stalky black mare is for you. It bore Chen previously."  Everyone would swear the horse looks relieved when it's new rider approaches it.  "Jezun, this horse is named
Chaser, and is for you to ride."

The horses all have their manes tied in intricate wraps made from multi-colored leather, and the saddles are very nice and elven made.  

Toc spends a few minutes talking to the yard owner, which ends with him passing over some coins.  In the meantime, stable boys untether and walk the horses out to the group for each person to mount up. Tic mounts up on a horse as well. Finally Toc is ready to go. The group makes their way down the road between the two vast farms on either side, the crops in full growth, fields high with miles of corn, wheat, and potatoes.  Wagons full of water, pulled by horses, have large pumps on the back that spray water, feeding the acres of plants.  The main road curved south and after a half mile passing through the farm land, enters a cluster of buildings. A sign proudly proclaims this place “Hillsfar Crossroads”.  A wide intersection large enough for several wagons to round side by side is featured at the center of town, with a large wooden sign pole thirty feet high surrounded by a small carved stone ring and a mound of grass. The sign pointed to the “Dales via Cormanthor Forest” (South), “Elventree” (East), “Yulash” (West) and “Hillsfar” (North).  The buildings here including a few inns, two taverns, and a number of shop fronts along with several trade related business such as secure storage and wagon repairs and the like. Toc led them through the Hillsfar Crossroads and takes the right road to Yulash.  There was a good amount of traffic on the road. Wagons and farm folk headed into town, loads of lumber being brought in. 

The group rides at a good pace led by Toc...and the hours of the day pass slowly during the long, but rather pleasant ride through farmland nestled between the forest miles to the south, and the shore of the Moonsea miles to the north, however both are far out of site and all you can see as you ride are the rolling farmlands and grass fields.  In late afternoon the group rides past what looks to have turned from somewhat large hamlet to an oversized and overcrowded refugee camp. The townfolk you do see here look perfectly waspish, while beggars line the road amidst the hovels built around. Toc fills you in as you go, "This place is called 'The Stop', and was a small hamlet that serviced caravans one day out from Hillsfar. But during the rise of the cult of the dragon a few years ago, Verdant Clouds mate Vorgansharax, also known as the Maimed Virulance, flew across the Moonsea to Phlan...the location of the Pools of Radiance, and killed most of the leaders of the city and took over. Well, it was eventually won back, but refugees from the battles fled here, and have moved into many areas in the region. Those that aren't human are forced to steer clear of Hillsfar, and have settled here or in Elventree, though are not particularly welcome in either location." 

This town looks to be in rough shape and you'd figure criminal elements are well positioned here. You also see what look like non-human adventurers sprinkled amidst the crowds of people, though they look young and untested to your veteran eyes. 

It's a couple hours of travel later when Toc calls a stop. The land past The Stop has become less settled, and there is more untamed grasslands here than farmland, though you still pass plenty of farms as you travel. The Red Plumes continue to patrol the road and you've passed by several large contingents.  The place you've stopped seems not a great place for camp, but Toc rides off to the side and hops down from his horse. There at the side of the road he begins casting magic. Sparkles of energy whisk around him as he draws arcane symbols and mutters words for about a minute.  Then, a shimmering glowing line cuts into reality.  He steps forward, and pulls open a door. Through it you see a familiar looking mansion.  As you go inside, taking the horses with you, you note that its layout is different and servants come to take the horses away and tend to them in a new section below set aside as stables. Otherwise every has their standard room and a banquet of dinner fare is sitting hot and steaming on a table beyond. 

The door closed behind, the group has all but vanished from reality, the road they left behind empty and quiet. 

Anyone do anything interesting in the evening, or in the morning before continuing the journey? 

Jezun's eyes do in fact take in a great deal of the group, and the general surroundings, as they leave Hillsfar.

As they leave town, he takes a few minutes to put his new mount at ease, before continuing a conversation that had been running since the night before with Tic. About gardening.

Feeling sympathy for the elf's apparent difficulty with grasping the conceptual side, Jezun has been explaining, with no small detail, how he had taken up gardening in recent years. Placing food scraps and leaves in a covered pile, having the patience to wait many months, and as a reward, a rich, fertile soil. Planting seedlings inside when the winter winds blow, and bravely bringing them outside a bit at a time. Choosing happy bedfellows to put down roots near each other, because some plants can be so different from one another and yet work together so effectively to help each other grow and ward off threats. Devising many different tactics to ward off the pests the plants couldn't handle. Devotedly watering the garden, every day, as an act of faith. And then harvest time, the joy of seeing the fruits of all that labor in the form of meals that can be shared by hundreds. "It's so much more than the drawings in a manual," he says, not once. He hopes the elf, or the echo of the elf, is finding it entertaining, if not useful.

The monk turns to Jahren, a bit sheepishly. "I may have missed something, but we're traveling to the goblin who collects treasure and magical wonders for the dragon, right?"

He is again just a gawking tourist when the mansion goes up again, reveling in the luxury. He'll ask another small question, over dinner. "So how did you meet each other, again?"

Second failure surprisingly did not discourage Mirica - quite the opposite. "You can drop the look now" half-Yuan-ti was not that hard on the eyes, actually, but she preferred Fianna's natural look. "I take that back - about inability to find the man divine will. It felt... differently. I might not know how to call the spells, but dealt with magic enough. The man is protected, shielded somehow. I can try again, of course... May be tomorrow, but not sure it will help."

Short trip through the city did not ruin her mood either - compare to others (except Jezun, of course) she looked human enough or at least inconspicuous enough to pass without too much attention and greeted Misty as an old friend. Ahead was the travel trough the woods - a welcome distraction at any time and when they did get there, Mirica enjoined every minute of it. Goblins or dragons did not make much difference at that point though that was a right question and she was curious too about the answer.

She was the last to enter the mansion, casting one more look at the forest, but during the dinner gladly keep the conversation alive. "Fate, providence, Toc's sharp eye - or all of these together. Fianna found me in the woods, believe it or not, claiming the vision predicted our meeting. I did not believe her at first," she smiled to Fianna, "but later her visions proved to be very real. Then we picked up Toc (or he conscripted us - depends how you look) and as it turned out he was already assembling a team to investigate strange happenings around the city. The only accidental addition - sort of - is Sir Sebastion here. He was unfortunate enough to run into us on his way to dragon hunting and got entangled into the whole mess."

Back at the stables, while Toc took a couple of minutes to pay for the horses, Jahren whispers to the others to play along, and someone please guide his horse by the reins when they leave.  He uses his Mislead once again to separate his invisible self from an illusory double, the latter making a display of saying his goodbyes to the party, wishing them luck, waving and then walking back into the city.  Standing there holding his horse invisibly, Jahren spends a minute or two leading any tails on a merry pursuit around many a corner before disappearing into the crowded city and hiding his double, perhaps even inside a wall if the spell would allow.  The invisible Jahren then mounts his horse and waits for the others to lead him down the road before dropping his spell.  "That should keep my new friends on the hunt for a bit while we're gone" he says happily.

As the group passes The Stop, Jahren hands out any food he can spare, knowing his belly will likely be filled at Toc's palace before the day is out.  If there is a good vendor of any kind he will dismount, buy some food and take a minute to distribute it amongst the hungrier looking folks, especially non-humans.  He does not give out coin directly for fear of causing unrest or putting a target on the back of some poor helpless soul and for the same reason does not give a food vendor a small fortune.

In response to Jezun's question about the goblin question, the always cheery bard replies in jest "I believe that is the idea, but that assumes Toc knows where he's going!"  He winks and makes it obvious to Jezun that he's just playing.  Regarding how they met, for Jahren's part he replies with equal humor "I met Toc in Hillsfar and managed to trick him into thinking I was a proper adventurer."  "This way I can observe your deeds, collect some treasure and have stories to tell the world later."

Even when not actively joking, Jezun finds that Jahren often downplays his abilities, referring to the rest of the group as proper adventurers and heroes and he just along for the ride to observe and even serve the others.  He'll act as a herald in introducing the group to notable strangers, again leaving himself out of the account of notable figures.  Regarding his magic, if he refers to it at all he often does so as minor tricks in comparison to what the others can do.  The bard can often be seen journaling about the day's events during rest periods as well.

     Fianna is more than happy to assist Jahren in his little charade despite not knowing the why or the whole.  While on the road, we’ll away from the city, she will happily needle him for that information.

     “I could be quite helpful in whatever side endeavors you have going,” Fianna assured him. “Be it being persuasive...  a distraction... back up... or just another pair of eyes.”

     FinFin crawls out from around Fianna’s neck, climbs onto her shoulder and stretches.  “Or pairs of eyes,” Fianna corrects herself.  “FinFin can be quite the sneak if they want to be.”

—-

     Fianna mainly just listens and agrees as Mirica tells of their meeting.  She adds and clarifies a few minor details.  The only real correction she makes is to say “Actually I agreed to join Toc.  I’ve known him for ages. Since the war...  It was I that conscripted Mirica. Probably the Fey in me, abducting a stray all for myself.”  Fianna smiles and winks and then allows Mirica to finish the tale...

—-

     While riding, FinFin will occasionally take to the air and disappear for perhaps an hour at a time.  These will be part scouting ahead, part exercise and hunting of small meals and partly just because Fianna enjoyed the sense of flying through their senses. Riding is a joy but nothing beats flying...  and the thought just makes her anxious to really test out her new boots!

     Inside the mansion she currently has little to accomplish besides rest and relaxation.  She will marvel at the mansion and inquire just what  components it takes to create such a wonder.  thinking of the refugees at the crossroads she’ll wonder aloud at why such Magic’s cannot be used to solve such issues.

     “Imagine an army of people capable of the spell, deployed to assist, shelter and feed the dispossessed and needy.  I can’t help but think how much change such a thing could do in a world that struggles muchly over lack of resources.” Fianna ponders aloud.

     “But ego and bigotry and jealousies would still remain, I suppose.  It would not be a cure all for the woes that plague us, but I have to think those refugees could use shelter more than we...”

Jahren smiles warmly and replies while looking Fianna in the eyes "I may just take you up on that."  His look and smile linger a bit longer on the pretty half-elf.  At some point while riding along side her, Jahren gives a brief overview of the situation he has inserted himself into, leaving out specifics like his various contacts and specific references to the Harpers.  He mostly mentions how Yestral seems like a promising, just leader but faces a number of challenges, as do the elves, and he wonders how he or the group as a whole might help bring the region together even beyond just slaying monsters.  He also touches upon the politics of racism in the region and how to improve that, as well as the local hatred of magic in Hillsfar.

     “I can’t claim to have a head for politics or diffusing racism, my first thought would be a large casting to make the population all appear elven for a day.  It would teach them a lesson but I doubt they’d react how one would hope,” Fianna replies.

     “As for Yestral, raising his profile and the esteem the people have for him would seem crucial. Big deeds done in his name or at his behest play a role,” Fianna continues, musing aloud. “But for the common person I’d think it’s often the little deeds that mean the most to them.  The baker doesn’t lose sleep due to the dragon over the sea, she loses sleep because the price of flour went up.  The dragon having burned the fields and the mills is secondary to her.”

((I imagine it’s this conversation that got Gianna considering the refugees at the crossroads and how to assist them.))

     “Is there a way you could get the elves, at Yestrals bequest of course, to do some kindness or other that would impact the lives of the masses of Hillsfar?  Whatever intrigues others may plot, it is harder to topple a beloved king than a competent one,” Fianna suggests to Jahren.

     ((It’s a bit unclear if you mention the spies or the tails in town.  If so Fianna also offers aid there. Watching the watchers, tracking them, perhaps charming them into giving up what the know.  Or just laying waste to them in a dramatic and showy way while Jahren has an irrefutable alibi...))