"Five-through one were a lot worse than this. Trust me on that." Cronic said, climbing into the carriage, taking hold of the client's hand. Once he'd sat down, he signalled to the driver they were ready to go.

"With odds worse than just four magically-adept cultists. Speaking of which, what the hell happened to the front door?" Cronic said, taking out a small stone, and set about sharpening his sword.

"I heard someone shouting in a language I didn't recognize before the Cultists burst in, but beyond that, I don't know how they knocked the door off it's hinges."