Camilla leaned in an kissed Cydric passionately.

“We need more plans that start that way!” 
Behind them she heard shouts of confusion which quickly transmuted to panic. A fat man burst from the Golden Huzzah blubbering in terror. He fled sightlessly past Cydric and Camilla, his tunic soaked with ale and spilled food. Behind him came a flood of other patrons. Whether it was the daemons or the cultists, someone was obviously giving chase.

“Best we scappa!” Camilla added. She didn’t have her sword and even if she did she didn’t care to try it against the seductive daemon women that had been summoned from the tapestry. She saw half naked cultists appearing in the door, hands and improvised weapons slicked with blood. One of the women a plain looking merchant's wife had blood around her mouth and was licking it away in obvious ecstasy. Without another word the pair of mercenaries turned and fled with the remaining patrons. 

If the cultists pursued them they were quickly lost in the twisting streets of the city. After a few minutes they slowed and stepped into an alley, waiting and watching. The alarm bells began to clamor and soldiers rushed passed in the general direction of the tavern. Even against the sky Camillia could see a pall of smoke begining to rise.

“They must have set it on fire,” she concluded, shivering at the lengths cultists would go to to achive their horrifying aims.

“We need…” the thought was interrupted by the chiming of bells.

“Palle di Ranald! We need to be at the palace!” Camilla hissed, suddenly remembering Dietricha’s cryptic message. It could have been meant for today or tomorrow, but suddenly Camilla was overcome with the absolute certainty that it meant tonight. 
[@POOHEAD189]