Streets of Port Verge (nighttime) – Everyone
The beguiler quickly and quietly worked his craft, sending a chill pale cloud pouring into the well-lit street. A lone hawk beat its wings and emerged from the mist, the vapor playing over its white feathers, almost making it appear to be a mere phantom.
The cold air and wet grounds aided the spread of the mist, as it slowly spread out like thick batter onto a pan. Though the fog did not extend far enough to nudge at the ankles of the theatergoers, a few of the curious ones had diverted their attention it its abrupt appearance from the alley a little ways up the street. The police forces that had been floating near the crowd took notice as well, and at a nod from the captain two officers began to stride leisurely towards the fog.
At this moment, a rather small and oddly shaped figure darted out of the fog on the opposite side of the street from where the fog had spread from, walking as quickly as it could and disappearing abruptly into an alleyway. One of the officers turned to the other unsurely, and they craned their necks around to see if their commander had seen the figure. The captain, however, was preoccupied, awkwardly chatting with some of the wealthy patrons still waiting of earthier carriages to arrive.
The two officers quickly turned again to the fog. They heard distinct metal splashes and rings on the wet paving stones, and the high ring of rain hitting hollow metal plating. Either someone in full armor was crossing the mists next, or it was one of the few warforged in Port Verge. The two officers hesitantly resumed walking towards the silvery cloud, their hands now read to draw their weapons. In the thin swirls at the end of the cloud, there slowly manifested a large shadow. At the edge of the mist, the mass solidified into what appeared a sturdily built figure helping a friend so drunk or ill he could no longer walk. However, they too quickly disappeared into an alley.
The sharp northern wind that so often cut through the hillside town stirred up for a short second, flicking rain in the officers’ faces. They were now hurrying towards mist and the alley the figures had disappeared into.
Just as they couldn’t see into the unnatural fog, those crossing within it could not see the officers approaching. The two men were only fifteen feet away when another pair made the quick dash from the end of the mist into the alley. It was yet another pair, with one helping the other along. This time, however, the officers had the chance to notice that these were no wandering drunkards: both the figures were well armed.
Doubts removed, the two guardsmen rushed forward now. Suddenly, a frightful shrill cry came form above, and a flash of sleek white dropped towards the two men. The white hawk pulled out of its dive in front of the officers, crying in alarm, beating its wings at the air between the men and the fog. The bird’s fear and haste coursed magically through empty space, and into the mind of its master. From within the fog came the sound of a quick gasp and running footsteps, and a young girl burst out of the cloud, tugging at a young half-elf’s arm to be sure he hurried after.
One of the guardsmen drew his sword, and charged past the distressed bird and towards the alleyway. At that moment, however, there came the sharp sound of horses’ hooves kicking at pavement, and the snap of a crop as a carriage driver urged his balking horses through the fog towards the theater.
“Watch ‘er!” the second officer called out, and the first one quickly pushed himself up against the brick wall of the building as the large black carriage materialized from the mists and came bursting past them. Water sprayed up from the wheels, and the horse-driver called out commands in attempt to slow his team back into a dignified trot. The two officers glanced at each other, then quickly made for the alley down which the band of figures had disappeared. Suddenly, out of the mists themselves flew an arrow, clacking against the brick near the officers’ heads. The shot had flown wild, as any sent through the mist is probable to do, but it was enough for the two officers to turn and dive into the cloud, determining that whomever had loosed the arrow was a greater threat.
Dragen, though he had been keeping well behind, watched his companions run into the fog, and then heard Cloudchaser’s warning scream. Unfortunately, he had to abandon his previous intents to defend the group, lest he loose them completely on their way to Bim’s old shop. Coolly backtracking and taking another route through the streets, he quickly lost the guardsmen, and within a few more minutes he caught sight of the group yet again.
They walked with great haste through the cold night, following Carver on a convoluted path of streets and alleys. By the time their hearts settled and the immediate danger passed, they had come to a very quiet part of the city. It seemed to be almost entirely shops, with a few dark apartments on upper stories. Though the occasional light seeped through gaps in window shutters, most of the buildings were well shut against the wet chill this night, and those who lived inside them were remaining comfortably in their homes.
After one last left turn, Carver came at last to a stop at the door of a moderately sized shop. A sign dripped over the door that read “Banderelli Artifice and Alchemical“, though it was hard to see anything in the duty shop windows by night. The warforged set the still-unconscious bugbear gently down on the pavement, and unlocked the steel door. He stepped inside and lit the closest lamp. The rest of the group filed silently in, dripping muddy rainwater onto the dusty floorboards of the shop. A small distance away, Dragen watched them at last arrive at their shelter.
