She brought a friend! The friend has a staff on her back that looks very definitely like the kind you hit people with rather than the kind you use to do magic.

"Hello. You are Clare?"

"Yes," she says. "And you are Eliana. Hello."

"It would be best if the two entries coincided as closely. What is the others' plan?"

"Stalas is going to knock on the door. We will have no trouble hearing it from behind the building. We can assume he will be going in shortly afterward."

"I almost wish I could be there to see the guards' faces. Coming from the back, we will be facing less resistance. Closest place likely to contain hostiles is the refectory, two hallways over from the door."

Acknowledging nods from both of them.

"My magical specialty is telekinesis; Clare is a melee fighter today unless a third mage starts looking unexpectedly useful."

"Understood. I can handle elementalism, and I have made a study of some of the more esoteric arts. If you do not object to their use on principle."

"My principled objections to things are entirely concerned with how much harm is being done to people, and not a bit about how forbidden any particular discipline may or may not be."

Nod.

"What about me?"

"You'll be a liability. Stay here."

"Don't worry," says Metella, "we have everything under control."

And, out front of the building:

a golem knocks on the door.

It stays mounted on its hinges, but only just.

A wooden slat at eye level moves back and a pair of eyes peer out. They widen in shock when they see the golem.

The golem's steel helmet is incapable of smiling, but there is a certain sense in the way it tilts its head that a grin would go there if it fit.

"Good afternoon," it says. "I was told a healer was requested at this address."

"I- Wh- Uh-" stutters the pair of eyes. The wooden slat slams back into place.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Uh, I, uh, go away?" a voice asks.

The poor door is not going to be able to stand much more abuse.

Knock. Knock. Kn—there it goes.

The steel golem steps inside, followed by two stone friends.

"The healers have arrived!" it announces.

Doesn't look like there are any sick people who need healing here. Apart from the guy who just took a whole door to the face. And the entire rest of his body. He's either dead or unconscious though, so it can probably wait.

There are five men in armor further into the room, and a mage behind them who immediately launches a fireball over their heads at the golems.

The golems appear to be impervious to fire.

(One of them actually finds it really uncomfortable, but showmanship is important.)

They stride unstoppably across the room toward the mage and his guards.

Another fireball, and another, and then the golems are too close. The soldiers engage. They're very well disciplined, even if their training never covered this scenario.

The mage stops throwing flashy effects around and assumes a look of intense concentration.

One of the stone golems picks up a soldier, incidentally crushing the back of his neck with one hand in the process, and throws him at the mage.

Meanwhile, the talkative one is terrifyingly fast for being half a ton of steel. The remaining four soldiers are not having a good time.

No. No they are not.

The mage goes down, struggles to rise for a moment, decides against it, draws a knife, cuts half the soldier's face off-