"Of course. We'll talk to her actors, first, and then we can seek out a local inn or flophouse where we can rest and recuperate. Or we can ask the actors after we've rested, perhaps that's a better idea."

"Let's find them, make sure they're okay and not going to flee the city in fear of more Red Wizard attacks, and ask basic questions to see if it'll turn up any more leads beside resurrecting the bitch. And then go sleep. I think I am quite done with today."

"I can understand the feeling."

They pass back through the shadow portal, out through the dressing rooms onto the stage, and out through the audience into the sunlight.

Three masked women teleport in formation in front of them.

She stares at them with the cold, uncaring eyes of a woman who is fully expecting them to either kick her out of the city or throw her into jail for unjustified and absurd reasons.

"We handled your Red Wizard problem," she says. "You're welcome."

The women look at her, unsmiling. "You crossed spells with our mortal enemies, foreigner, and drove them from our midst. For that, much may be forgiven... but not all."

"I've studied your laws, witches, and we've broken none. Why do you speak of forgiveness?" Safiya asks coldly.

"You know our laws, but I know you, child, even if these others do not," says the eldest woman. "You'll be better served by keeping silent."

"Look, Sheva," the right-hand witch says angrily, "the sharp-eared one! It's her who offends the land, and will draw the army to our gates!"

"Speak your name, foreigner," says Sheva, "and be warned that you address the Wychlaran."

Ciaveth turns her icy stare to the witch who called her ears sharp. Great. Racism. She missed that. A quip about them not being the only sharp thing she has dies in her chest, because just because she's had a long day doesn't mean she should be stupid. She smiles the same smile she aimed at Bishop before she gutted him like the traitorous dog he was. It is not a nice smile.

"I'm Ciaveth Farlong. Hello." She does the lovely little curtsy that's appropriate for Neverwinter's court, out of sheer petty spite. It is executed perfectly. She had plenty of reason to practice. "What a pleasure to make your acquaintance. To what do I owe this honor?"

"We are Witches - ambassadors to the hidden realm of spirits, and keepers of the sacred law. We bow our heads to the Triune Goddess, and to no one else. Magda told us of your... heroics... in the Veil, but the spirits tell a different story. They say that in one day's time, the bear king Okku will march an army of spirits to our gate, roaring for your blood. They say that you defiled his sacred den, and loosed a great evil upon the world. And the spirits do not lie. I can smell the wrongness on you, foreigner; it hangs upon you like a corpse-shroud."

She smiles pleasantly at the witches. It's... still not a nice smile.

"If you mean I was dragged into Okku's den while I was unconscious shortly after I had my chest forcibly cut open and woke up there, oh, yes. I know precisely what you're talking about. I am very sorry for accidentally bleeding all over Okku's nice den, I'm sure it makes perfect sense that he wants more of it to make up for it. Fortunately for you, I don't have any intention of staying here for very long. I came to question person responsible for my kidnapping and non-consensual surgery, Lienna," she points with a thumb towards the Theatre, "but the Red Wizards beat me to it, so I cannot, actually, ask her what the fuck. I'd like to ask her staff if they, perhaps, know anything about what the fuck. And then I will sleep in an inn, probably go throw lots of money at your market, and be on my way."

She is being purposefully unhelpful and petty and spiteful, but look, they started it. Who even wastes teleports on stupid shows of intimidation? If they wanted her dead they'd have disintegrated her from invisibility like a proper fucking wizard. Instead, they descended upon her like a pack of buzzards, expecting her to flinch. Surprise! She is not flinching.

"Then Magda spoke true?" the youngest witch says fearfully. "She said there were Thayans, that they appeared from the very shadows-"

"Calm, Katya; you are a Witch now, not a farmgirl," Sheva interrupts. "I do not doubt that you have suffered, stranger, but the bear god will not rest until one of you is dead. Until you have made your peace with him or defeated him proper, we will keep Magda and her crew safe - from Okku, and from you, if need be."

'If she had anything to fear from me she'd be dead,' Ciaveth doesn't say. It's not like she didn't have ample opportunity. Not to mention that it was Ciaveth who sent Magda to the witches! This is a paper thin pretense; they are using what little pathetic leverage they have against her to try to force her to do what they want. It's rude, and dumb, and most importantly it's really getting on her nerves.

"Oh, all right, you can supervise while I very politely ask her questions, if that would be okay?" she asks, perfectly innocently.

Sheva looks like she'd have a very nasty smile if she ever smiled. "We do not know what you are capable of," she says. "Perhaps you would rip the soul right out of her body as we watched, like a monster from the old tales."

The urge to burn this city to the ground is rising. Neverwinter first, then this fucking place.

"Oh, for the love of—! Look. I do not want to hurt Magda, as far as I can tell she had nothing to do with anything that happened to me. She just might know something about what did, so I'd like to ask now before she forgets any critical information. If I wanted to hurt her, I would have done it shortly after rescuing her, but instead I sent her to you, because I wanted to make sure she and the others were safe.

"I do not want to draw Okku the rainbow bear god to your city and cause a slaughter. If you want to toss a woman out to be eaten by an angry bear god to save your wretched cowardly skins, fine. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt anyone undeserving besides me, but don't you dare stand there and pretend you're being haughty and wise and reasonable. You are cowards who could not protect your citizens from murder. You show up after the real fighting has passed with your paper-thin scare tactics and expect me to flinch and bow my head and be cowed and play along with your farce. Fuck off with your sanctimonious narcissistic games, I am not playing."

"How dare-" the racist witch begins.

"It is good that we understand each other," Sheva says over her colleague, with a wicked smile. "You may go to the prison at the northeast of town, and tell the inmates that anyone who fights alongside you against the bear king will receive a full pardon. But before that, come; let us speak with Magda."

"Great, thank you," sighs Ciaveth, anger dissipating in the face of someone actually being reasonable and helping her. Amazing. She was beginning to think it was impossible. "That's very helpful, and I appreciate it very much."

Sheva dismisses her companions with a wave of her hand; they walk up the hill, casting confused glances back at Ciaveth and Sheva occasionally.

"You may come as well, Red Wizard," Sheva murmurs, walking towards the residential district.

"How did you know?" Safiya asks, following.

Sheva sighs. "You have make-up on your forehead, you're wearing a hooded cloak, and you have no hair. Please do not insult my intelligence."

"...how didn't those other two notice, if it's so obvious?"

"I didn't say don't insult their intelligence."

.... Ciaveth can't help it. She snorts, just a little. She follows the witch she admittedly kind of respects now. Okay, Mulsantir, you can escape from her list of theoretical cities that need to be burned down, one semi-cool old witch lady is all that stands between you and destruction. You'd better hope that racist one doesn't end up in charge.

"We can see about finding you some kind of wig, maybe. Or just go looking for a spell for it when we go shopping, that'd be more versatile."

Safiya sighs heavily. "I hate wigs, they itch terribly on bare skin. There's a reason I didn't pack one. I'd rather a disguise spell... but, once again, illusion is one of my prohibited schools, for reasons that seemed to make perfect sense at the time."

Sheva's eyebrows can't be seen behind her mask, but they're raised. "No witch would ever forego illusion. A good illusion is all things: defense, offense, utility... how could you do without?"

"I don't enjoy deception," Safiya sniffs.

"I'll try to find something suitable for my spellbook, then. I don't have any prohibited schools."

"Perhaps we can find a Hat of Disguise," Safiya suggests. "I don't hate hats."

Sheva leads them into a nearby home, unlocking the door. Inside are Magda and her actors. The actors are talking loudly; Magda shouts over them, "Pipe down, you rogues, and give some thanks to the women who saved our lives!"

"Alas, our thanks are all we have to give, for a cruel-hearted dwarf hoards our meager profits," calls one of the actors.

"Aye! And squanders our earnings on love potions, to steal the heart of Sweet Wallace!"

Magda sighs. "Honestly, milady, it's like chasing a pack of dockside waifs with a broomstick. And that's when we're not trying to put on a play. Mistress Whitefeather, what brings you to our little hideaway?"

"Ciaveth, here, had some questions for you," Sheva says.

Magda turns to Ciaveth. "Well, ask away."

"Ah, first... The Red Wizards made it to Lienna before we did. I'm sorry." Mostly because the bitch had some serious questions to answer, but also just in the general sense of being annoyed that she couldn't save someone. Still, Ciaveth has the class to give these people that probably knew her as a friend some space to mourn. "She... didn't suffer for very long, deciding to take her own life rather than surrender."

Magda nods sadly. "It's hard, but I thank you for trying to save her."

Ciaveth nods, because saying 'You're welcome,' or something seems disingenuous. She's not, actually, sorry that Lienna's dead, precisely. She's sorry that she didn't get to question her. Or maybe throttle her herself.

"I actually came to the Veil to ask her some questions about... some things she was involved in," she continues, trying delicately not to brutally trample all over their memory of their dead friend immediately. Yes, question about some things she was involved in. Like kidnapping her, cutting open her chest, and stealing a shard of a sword. Like dumping her in a prison at the bottom of a barrow that held something that is probably inside Ciaveth right now. Like that. "... Did she do anything strange in the past, ah, week or so? Meet with anyone, hang out for extended periods of time in her secret room? Something?"

"Thought you might say something like that," Magda says heavily. "There's not a one of us who didn't love that woman, but she'd been acting mighty strange of late, 'tis true."

"And the blood, Magda," one of the actors says luridly, "those ghastly droplets of red upon her white robe!"

"I hadn't forgotten the blood, Wallace. I was building up to it." Magda breathes in, then out. "No more than a few days before you saved our hides, milady, Lienna comes bursting out from that shadow-door of hers, all covered in blood."

"Covered in blood, aye, and not a drop of it hers!" says another actor.

Magda hisses him silent. "And before that, I saw the other woman hanging about... the red-robed lady, bald as a squalling babe. The both of them were up to some sort of mischief - that's all the red lady was good for, if you ask me - probably behind the doors of that secret room..."

The half-elf carefully folds her hands together to keep her fists from clenching. Covered in her blood, and not even bothering to clean any of it up. The bitch. She carefully exhales a breath through her teeth. She does not want to explain whose blood it was and why she's so personally offended, and she wants the actors' pity even less. There will be no lingering on Ciaveth's victimhood; she will simply just not tell them.

"Do you know anything else about the red-robed lady? Did Lienna meet with her regularly?"

"I know only what my eyes have seen. Her face was like Lienna's, so much alike that I thought them sisters. And her head was all covered with runes."

"I wonder if she was from my Academy," Safiya muses. "This might explain how Lienna was known to my mother."

Magda looks at Safiya as if seeing her for the first time. "Aye, so it might, for you look as much like both of them as they did each other. A little prettier, a little smoother of the skin, but I'd believe that you were Lienna's daughter... or that red woman's." Safiya looks poleaxed. Magda continues, "I saw her but twice - no, make it thrice. The first time was years ago... I awoke to voices in Lienna's bedroom, so I peered inside, thinking it might be robbers again. But instead, who do I see but a red-robed lady, chatting away with Lienna. I'm certain they knew I was watching... Scared me silly, you understand. Red robes mean naught but trouble. But Lienna trusted her, so I let the matter pass. I saw her the second time, maybe a few months ago, before the two of them disappeared for a good long while. And the third time was just before the wizards came. I saw the red lady near the portal, when Lienna came bursting out of her room, all covered in... whoever's blood that was." She looks at Ciaveth meaningfully.