How yakshavey. "Nice to meet you. Uh, lost like she got turned around in the woods or like she has been kidnapped or what."

"Kaelyn came here seeking the abandoned stronghold of Myrkul, the Death God's Vault, which is in Shadow Mulsantir - the city's mirror on the Plane of Shadows," Efrem explains. "To enter Myrkul's sanctum would be a violation of our faith to Kelemvor, and so we cannot seek her out ourselves."

"...huh. I have never been to the Plane of Shadows under my own power, but I guess there might be time to check it out, especially if there is another handy portal just lying around, is there?" She turns into a water elemental for no reason. She's still hungry. She turns back to normal.

Safiya nods. "This city is somewhat notoriously close to its shadow counterpart, there should be plenty. And the stone we got from Magda should let us through other shadow portals just as easily. It wouldn't be too out of our way, although we'd likely want to wait for dusk if we want to get back in a timely fashion."

"Okay then. Kaelyn doesn't follow Kelemvor, I surmise?"

Efrem nods awkwardly. "Kaelyn has... abandoned her faith in Kelemvor. For this she was exiled from our grandfather's court. She now follows Ilmater, god of suffering and of martyrs."

"We hope to convince her not to become a martyr herself," Susah adds.

"...is she going to want to come back if we go say 'hey your siblings are concerned'?"

     "If she does not wish to come back to the fold we will accept her decision," Efrem says.

          Susah grimaces. "But she has the right to know that we would take her back. She left before we could reassure her, and we fear she may have taken her banishment, um, personally."

"It would seem difficult not to," Safiya mutters.

"Okay. So, that's on the to-do list for after dark, and we'll see in the meantime if we can recruit more backup from the prison."

     "Thank you, stranger," Efrem says. "You are a friend to the House of the Triad and to the Menagerie." Then he and his sister trot off.

"Interesting," Safiya says when they've left. "Those weren't mere Kelemvor-worshippers - judging by the symbols on their armor, they were bona fide Doomguides. And half-celestial, too, if I'm not mistaken. They could be powerful allies."

"What's a Doomguide?"

"Kelemvor's elite clerics. They concentrate mostly on the destruction of undead, but they don't lose much utility to the specialization. And usually, in order to become a Doomguide in the first place you must destroy a powerful undead creature, so they're well selected for competence."

"Huh. Do the bear and all his buddies count as undead?"

"No, regrettably, they're positive energy spirits. Superficially similar to an outside observer, but alignment-neutral and far trickier to deal with."

"Irksome." She turns into a moose because it occurs to her and she has Shapechange and WHY NOT.

Safiya laughs. "You've taken to being a shapeshifter quite enthusiastically."

"It's my new favorite spell!"

The prison's pretty easy to locate; it's one of the only buildings in the city with its doors open, and there is, as promised, a gibbet out front.

"What a charming piece of local flavor."

"Least it's unoccupied."

"I suppose you're right. Small mercies."

Inside the prison, at the front desk, is another masked witch, this one even older than Sheva Whitefeather. "As you have disturbed the spirits," she mutters, "you now disturb me. For what reason are you here, outlander?"

"I was told I could try recruiting from the prison population and they'd get amnesty if they volunteered."

The witch's mouth twists further. "Very well. Be warned: of the three in this cage, two you need not fear, but around the third... be on your guard, or he may drink the dreams from your very soul."

There are, notably, only two prisoners in the literal cages lining the walls; there is a door, towards the back of the room, covered in scrawled runes that pulse with abjuration magic.

"Scary one's the one with the royal suite over there?"

      The witch nods.

Safiya's already halfway across the room, examining the runes of warding around the enclosed room where the third prisoner is kept. "Abjuration... obviously. But not of the obvious sort. Halfway between a Dimensional Anchor and a Mind Blank. And... hmm." She doesn't elaborate in front of the witch.

Belmarniss will check it out real quick out of professional curiosity but then she'll turn and make the pitch to the nonscary two. "Hey," she says. "I'm Belmarniss. A bear god is mad at me and gonna show up and try to wreck my shit. If you wanna stand next to me and help out with that I am told you will be pardoned for your crimes. This is probably not exactly the most appealing rescue fantasy but it's what I've got, do either of you want in?"