Gerta leads you up the stairs, her heavy footsteps surprisingly quiet despite her size. On the second floor, you notice a couple of people standing guard in the hallway. Gerta leans in close and whispers, "I always keep my tenants' security in mind, darlin'."

She guides you past the doors where paying patrons sleep, their rooms silent behind closed doors. Then up another flight to the third floor, into a more internal area of the building.

"This here's for me and the help," Gerta explains softly.

She opens a door to reveal a small room. There's a nice bed, which immediately catches your exhausted attention, but the rest of the space is cluttered with cleaning supplies. Brooms lean against one corner, and old rags are piled near a bucket. The smell of damp cloth fills the air, musty and unpleasant.

"Tomorrow we can get all this mess cleared out if you're plannin' on stayin'," Gerta says apologetically. "A room like this would be way cheaper than the patron rooms anyhow. And if you can't pay for your stay, well, I've got plenty of work that needs doin'. But we don't need to discuss all that now. You just need to sleep."

She points back down the corridor. "That's my room right there. If anything happens, anything at all, you come knock on my door and call for me. You hear?"

You nod, grateful beyond words.

Gerta gives you one last warm smile before closing the door softly behind her.

You're alone. Finally alone.

The bed calls to you, and despite the smell of damp rags, you collapse onto it. Your body sinks into the mattress, and exhaustion crashes over you like a wave.

Sleep takes you almost instantly.

---

At first, there is only darkness. Warm, endless darkness that feels like floating in deep water.

Then the stars appear.

Not above you. Around you. Thousands of pinpricks of light surrounding you on all sides, as if you've been placed in the center of the night sky itself. They pulse gently, breathing with a rhythm that matches your heartbeat.

One star grows brighter than the others. Larger. It descends toward you, or perhaps you rise toward it. The light doesn't hurt your eyes. Instead, it feels curious, examining you.

The star shifts. Its light ripples and changes, becoming something else. Smoke. Blue-gray smoke that coils and dances in the void, forming shapes that almost make sense before dissolving again.

A voice speaks, though you can't tell if you're hearing it with your ears or feeling it resonate through your bones.

"Three wishes, freely given. Three gifts, freely taken."

The smoke forms the shape of hands, cupped together as if holding water. Then the hands open, and liquid fire pours out, the same sensation you felt coursing through your veins when you woke in the alley.

"Distance. Truth. Power."

The smoke shifts again, becoming the outline of your mother's face, cold and distant. Then Leila's face, somewhere far away, looking over her shoulder as if hearing someone call her name. Then your own face, eyes wide with newly awakened magic.

"All things have a price. All debts must be paid."

The smoke coalesces into a single point of brilliant blue light directly in front of you. It pulses once, twice, three times.

"When I call, you will answer."

The light explodes outward, filling everything, and you feel yourself falling, falling, falling through stars and smoke and..

You jolt awake, gasping, your body drenched in sweat. Your heart hammers in your chest.

Your hand is clutching something tightly against your chest. A bottle. You don't remember having it before you fell asleep.





Someone's pounding on your door.

"Kalila! You awake in there, sugar?" Gerta's voice, loud and cheerful despite the hour.

You sit up, disoriented, your mind still tangled in the dream. The room smells of damp rags. The bed beneath you is unfamiliar. For a moment, you don't remember where you are.

Then it all comes rushing back. Thornwood. The Panther's Rest. Six hundred miles from home.

You stumble to the small window and look out. The third floor gives you a view over some of the neighboring buildings, but the sky is still dark. No hint of dawn yet.

"Come on, honey! Time for breakfast with the rest of the team before we start settin' up for the day!" Gerta calls through the door. "Can't have the patrons starvin' when they wake up!"

---

What do you do?

Kalila immediately fell asleep in her room. She didn't care about the smell, she was just tired. She didn't even fight sleep when it claimed. She thought that she would sleep through the night safely. But she could never have expected what would come next.

She finds herself among stars in darkness. Confusion sets in again, but Kalila is able to realize that she is currently dreaming right now. One star grows brighter and closer as though to examine her. The fact Kalila felt more curiosity from the star, rather than cruel judgment or a desire to bring about harm does somewhat help with her nerves. She was curious as well, but that didn't last...

Confusion sets in once more when the star transforms into nothing more than blue-gray smoke. The roiling smoke keeps shifting and changing forms before she could truly comprehend the shape they were trying to form.

Her eyes are wide when a voice speaks and brings up the three wishes she made. She starts trying to say, "Wait a minute--"

But the voice continues, as though to emphasize its point, lists the three things she had essentially wished for in only one word each. The smoke reforms to show her mother, her sister, and herself with eyes aglow with magic!

"All things have a price. All debts must be paid."

Kalila eyes widened again at the words. The smoke coalesced into light once again, and it pulsed three times. She took a step back, as though the light was going to explode once more.

"When I call, you will answer."

Kalila quickly calls out in response to the last words, the demand, with pure confusion and in a futile attempt to learn something about this situation beyond the wishes, "How if I don't know who you are?!"

There was no answer. The star explodes outwards, causing her to yelp, and she screams as she feels herself falling through the stars and smoke and into the abyss.

---

She gasps sharply as she quickly sits up in the bed. Once again, she finds that she has to slow her breathing and her heart down. She tries to herself that it was just a dream, and that there was nothing to be scared of. She's safe and unharmed.

But then, something else catches her attention: Something in her hand, tightly clutched and against her chest. She trembles as she pulls it away and takes a look at the object in hand: A glass bottle or decanter. It's not a typical glass bottle that would hold any spirit. The craftsmanship is fine, with a long bottleneck and a tear shaped body. The handle is crafted to look like a wave of water manifested into glass to help hold the bottle.

All of the glass is transparent, with fine silver filigreed designs around the edges. Within the body of the bottle, something else can be seen: Iridescent smoke that roiled within. The smoke kept changing colors one after the other. If anything was in the bottle, nobody would be able to see it past the smoke. The smoke does occasionally rise through the neck and puff out of the bottle itself.

Kalila stared at it as she tried to recall if she had this last night, but she ended up staring at the smoke somewhat mesmerized.

The trance is broken with loud banging that caused Kalila to jump. Thankfully, she didn't lose the bottle. She takes a moment to recall everything that happened, and she calls back, "Oh, Yes! Yes, I'm awake,"

She moves to the window and takes in the fact that the sun hasn't risen yet. She looks back to the door as she calls back, "Okay, I'm coming!" She looks at her own dress and the bottle in hand. Considering that she had nothing else to wear, and she had no idea what this bottle is, it was better to just head out of the room and go meet with Gerta for breakfast, and to explain her situation. Plus, she needed to be able to pay Gerta back for her assistance.

Somehow, she had a feeling that she would need this bottle, and if she left it behind, it would just appear in her hand again.

Kalila opens the door, still clutching the mysterious bottle, and finds Gerta waiting in the hallway with that same warm smile.

"There she is! Come on, sugar, let's get some food in ya."

Gerta leads her down the stairs to a common area that's clearly meant for staff, not patrons. It's simpler than the main tavern floor, but somehow more welcoming. A large table has been set up with breakfast, and the smell alone makes Kalila's stomach growl.

Fresh bread sits in the center, still steaming slightly. Someone must have been up baking well before dawn. There are bowls of dried fruit as well, apples and apricots mostly, the kind that lasts longer than fresh. A few plates hold what appears to be cheese and some cold cuts. Simple fare, but it looks delicious.

Four people are already seated, split into two small groups, chatting amongst themselves.

At one end of the table, a middle-aged human man with thinning hair and a neatly trimmed beard is talking with a younger human woman. The man has the bearing of someone who's worked with his hands his whole life, broad shoulders and calloused fingers wrapped around a mug of something hot. The woman next to him is probably in her early twenties, with dark hair pulled back in a practical bun and an easy laugh that fills the space.

At the other end, a lean human man with sandy hair is listening intently to a young half-orc who's speaking animatedly about something. The sandy-haired man looks familiar, probably the one Gerta called "Mick" last night to cover the bar. The half-orc catches Kalila's attention immediately. He's close to Kalila's age, with deep gray skin like Gerta's and that same auburn hair, though his is styled in tight, voluminous curls. His tusks are prominent, more so than Gerta's, and he gestures enthusiastically as he talks, clearly passionate about whatever story he's telling.

"Alright, everyone!" Gerta's voice cuts through the chatter, warm but commanding. "We got ourselves a new face this mornin'. This here's Kalila. She spent the night here and she's welcome to stay if she wants. So y'all treat her well, ya hear?"

All four faces turn toward Kalila, expressions ranging from curious to welcoming.

Gerta continues, "Before we dig in, let's give thanks." She bows her head. "Grateful for this food, grateful for this roof, grateful for good folks to share it with. May we serve well today and rest well tonight."

A simple prayer, but heartfelt.

"Alright then, dig in!" Gerta says, already reaching for the bread.

Kalila looks around. She could sit with the older man and the young woman at one end. She could sit with Mick and the half-orc at the other. There's an empty spot next to Gerta herself. Or she could take a seat at one of the smaller tables nearby, giving herself some space.

---

Where do you sit?

Kalila gives a tired but relieved smile to Gerta when she greets her in the hallway. She follows her downstairs to see the food and the staff. She blushes slightly when her stomach growls and meets everyone of her hunger. Apparently being scared takes a lot of energy.

Before anything else, Gerta introduced the staff to her. Kalila does give a smile and wave, albeit shyly, and greets the staff in turn, “Hello!” Then Gerta proceeds to begin a prayer. Kalila decides to mimic the rest of the staff and bow her head respectfully during the prayer. There was no sense in causing trouble over a difference in how things are done.

Besides, there was nothing wrong with giving thanks for the things they’ve been blessed with.

With Greta’s go ahead, it was time to eat. Of course, Kalila hadn’t forgotten her words last night. Upon seeing that a seat by Gerta is open, she decides to sit there.

When she does so, she speaks to her, “I can’t thank you enough, Gerta. Though, I suppose now is the best time to explain myself?”

Gerta chuckles warmly as Kalila sits beside her, already reaching for the bread to tear off a piece.

"Well now, I was plannin' to wait till after breakfast was settled, give ya time to get some food in that belly of yours." She passes Kalila the bread basket with a knowing smile. "But if you're feelin' ready to share, I ain't gonna stop ya."

She leans back slightly, her tone light but her eyes sharp. The joke is clear but the questioning underneath is very real.

"So then, lil' princess," she gestures at Kalila's fine dress, the pendant, the way she carries herself, "who are you, really? And what brings someone like you to my doorstep in the dead of night, lookin' like you've seen a ghost?"

The other staff members have gone back to their own conversations, the chatter of breakfast filling the space. They're not paying attention to Kalila and Gerta's discussion.

The young half-orc is talking animatedly with Mick about something, gesturing with his hands.

---

What does Kalila say?

Kalila smiles hesitantly at Gerta's words, but she answers her words genuinely as she gratefully accepts the bread basket, "I thought it would be best to be upfront with you now; Before the customers come in, or anything else weird happens. It really was kind of you to let me hide and rest here, when anyone else would have ushered me through the backdoor," She glances to the rest of the staff, and she notices that nobody seems to be eavesdropping, much to her relief.

Kalila blinks at the joke, but then she lets out a small "Oh," as she remembered that she's still wearing the dress. She also notes her own posture. She thought she had relaxed in this inn and tavern, but apparently the years of pressure, stress, and the strict lessons had ensured that she would never really relax physically; Always keeping her back straight and her posture perfect.

After Gerta asked her questions, she sighs and she answers, "My name is Kalila Wrenfield. And no, I'm not a princess," She opted to give the last name, and see if Gerta recognized it. She wouldn't elaborate further unless Gerta asked. She honestly hoped that Gerta wouldn't recognize the name. If she did, then she wouldn't blame her for reacting with fear.



She continues to answer Gerta, and while she remains calm as she speaks, she doesn't notice that the smoke within the bottle she's carrying reacts to her emotions; The colors shift to reflect her emotions, and how fast the smoke roils quicken depending on whether or not her thoughts threaten to spiral into distress.

She continues, gesturing to the dress she's wearing, "This...was for a special event: The engagement part of an arranged marriage with a nobleman," Her tone falls flat as she recalls the horrible memories of said event.

She then chuckles lightly and tries to joke to lighten the mood at first, "That ceremony is a disaster story in its own right. So to sum it up quickly, after everything that happened there I snuck out before he could actually propose, and I went to speak with my family,"

At this point, the smoke turns a bright, passionate red to reflect the rage Kalila felt towards the man, as she makes her point of why she wanted to speak with her family. Her tone is still calm and composed, but the tone flat to express her displeasure, "No amount of gold or promise of status will ever change my mind on refusing to marry that cruel and entitled man," Her body trembles as she resists the urge to withdraw.

She takes a deep breath, and the smoke calms as she calms down as well. She continues, "So, I was speaking--No, arguing is the proper term here--with my family, and everything abruptly went dark for me mid-conversation. The next thing I knew, I woke up in an alleyway near here,"

She then sighs, "...I realize you've probably heard that from many a drunk patron before, and I don't blame you if you don't believe me on that. Miss Thornwick certainly made her skepticism clear. But, I truly didn't drink anything: I didn't feel comfortable doing so around my so-called 'fiancee'," The smoke does dull in color as she expects Gerta to laugh at her or dismiss her words. The expectation to be silenced again...

She continues, "I ended up coming to this place, because I heard footsteps behind me shortly after I woke up. Somebody was following me, and I didn't dare to look and see who it was. I immediately got the sense that whoever was behind me was much more dangerous than some thug. So, I hurried here while doing my best to not tip them off that I knew they were following me. You know the rest from there,"

She then elaborates, "As for why I was so pale last night...The first reason was because I learned that I am actually more than 600 miles away from home," Anyone could tell from her tone that she didn't feel like her home was actually a home. It felt more like a prison...

She finishes, "And...I thought I felt that pursuer's presence in the room when I was alone. It really did feel like a ghost was chasing me..."

With the story finished, she finally looks to Gerta and the words ring in her mind again,

"All things have a price. All debts must be paid."

She speaks again, with the understanding that she's probably been a nuisance for Gerta, "I do want to repay your kindness by helping out around here. As you can probably tell, I'm ill prepared for any kind of journey. Once I've paid for the night's stay through labor, and I can purchase supplies needed for a journey, I'll be out of your hair,"

Gerta listens carefully as Kalila speaks, her eyes tracking the girl's face, her posture. When Kalila mentions the name Wrenfield, there's no flicker of recognition in Gerta's expression. Just patient attention.

She notices the bottle Kalila's holding, sees the smoke inside shifting colors, roiling faster and slower. Her eyes narrow slightly, thoughtful, but she doesn't interrupt.

When Kalila finishes, Gerta is quiet for a moment, chewing on a piece of bread. Then she nods slowly.

"Well now. That does sound like drunk talk, I'll give ya that." A pause, then her expression softens. "But if that's what happened to you, then who am I to doubt it? Stranger things have walked through my door, I can tell ya that much."

She leans forward, her voice dropping just slightly, more serious now.

"My brother, he had a motto. 'Trust people till they give you reason not to.' Everyone's innocent until they've gone and fucked up, ya know?" She gestures around the table. "Most folks here know that better than anyone."

Gerta takes a sip from her mug, then starts pointing to each staff member in turn.

"That there's Mick," she nods toward the sandy-haired man. "Good with numbers, better with a blade. Used to run with some rough folks down by the docks, but that was years ago. Been loyal to me and mine ever since."

"The lady with the dark hair, that's Isla. Light fingers in her youth, if you catch my meaning. But she's been straight as an arrow for ten years now. Works harder than anyone I know."

"The older gentleman, that's Petyr." She pauses, a wry smile crossing her face. "Actually, Petyr's never done a damn thing wrong in his life. Model citizen, that one. Just needed work and I had an opening."

Then Gerta's expression warms considerably as she looks toward the young half-orc, who's still talking animatedly with Mick, his hands gesturing wildly as he tells some story. His auburn curls bounce with the movement, and his tusks catch the morning light.

"And that handsome troublemaker there is my nephew, Garrek."



Gerta's voice softens with obvious affection. "I was a bit of a troublemaker myself in my younger days. But when my brother died, I had to take care of Garrek here and keep the Panther's Rest running. Sometimes people just need a chance, ya know? A place where someone believes in 'em."

She turns back to Kalila, her gaze direct but kind.

"So you don't need to rush off anywhere, sugar. You ain't botherin' anyone. And if you really want to stick around and help out..." She pauses, considering. "I can pay you two gold a week, plus free food and a place to sleep. Fair?"

Before Kalila can respond, Gerta reaches into her pocket and pulls out two gold coins. She slides them across the table.

"Here's an advance on your first week. Go get yourself some proper work clothes so you don't ruin that fancy dress while you're cleanin' tables or haulin' kegs. And if you want to make that room of yours a bit more comfortable, well, that's up to you."

She leans back with a satisfied smile.

"Welcome to the Panther's Rest, Kalila Wrenfield. You're one of us now, if you want to be."

---

What does Kalila do?

Kalila expected the worst of reactions when Gerta mentioned that her words did indeed sound like drunk talk. But confused relief washes over her when Gerta accepted her words anyways. She listened quietly as she explains that her brother believed in the innocent until they're proven guilty; A tenant of the Jury to be sure!

She looks to each staff member and listens as Gerta introduces each one of them to her, and their background, while eating a piece of bread quietly. The last of the staff to be introduced was Garrek, Gerta's nephew.

When Gerta reassured that she didn't need to rush off, and that she wasn't bothering anyone, she could feel her eyes grow somewhat misty. She manages to keep her composure, but...when was the last time anyone expressed such a sentiment to her? She was always a bother to someone, even to her own family. She always needed to make sure that she didn't take up too much time at home.

Nobody really believed in her back there, did they...?

She snaps out of the thoughts when Gerta offers 2 Gold per week of work, and an advancement so she can get herself proper work clothes. She gave a happy smile to Gerta after her words of welcome, and she answers her, "That's fair. Thank you so much, Gerta! I won't let you down,"

She speaks clearly thinking things over, "At the very least, the week here will let me get my bearings and consider what to do from here,"

"...And also figure out who or what that voice was, and how they heck they would call for me for that debt..." Kalila also thought to herself quietly, the dream still in her mind.

She then adds realizing something, and she informs Gerta a little embarrassed, "Oh, right! I am going to need directions to the tailor. I'm not familiar with the layout of Thornwood at all,"

Kalila's smile wavers slightly at Gerta's question, embarrassment creeping up her neck.

"A tailor?" Gerta asks, eyebrows raised. "Honey, with two gold pieces, you're lookin' at the smaller shops or the second-hand stores. A tailor-made outfit would cost ya a whole lot more than that." She waves a hand. "But don't you worry. Garrek here will take you to our trusted spots later. Get you sorted proper."

Gerta pauses, then snaps her fingers. "Oh! Before I forget." She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper, sliding it to Kalila. "Thornwick left this address with me before she left yesterday. Said there's a jeweler, an arcane collector, and that you should bring your pen-dant," she says it oddly, almost like "pen-dahnt," "for him to study it. Even if you don't want to sell it, she said he'd be interested."

Kalila takes the paper and tucks it into her dress pocket.

The conversation flows easily after that. The staff talk amongst themselves, their voices mixing into comfortable chatter. Kalila catches bits and pieces as she eats.

Isla mentions a shipment coming in late from the docks, complaining about unreliable merchants.

Petyr talks about fixing a loose board on the second floor before someone trips.

Mick mutters about a card game he lost last night to some sailors.

The hot tea in the center of the table steams, and someone passes Kalila a cup. It's sweet, with honey and something floral.

For a moment, everything feels almost normal. Almost peaceful.

Then there's a heavy knock at the door.

Everyone freezes.

Garrek frowns, setting down his bread. "That's not the right date. They've come too soon."

Gerta's jaw tightens. She stands, her voice calm but firm. "Garrek. Go open the door."

He hesitates for just a second, then nods and heads toward the back entrance.

Gerta moves quickly in the other direction, disappearing through a doorway. She returns moments later holding a small leather pouch, her face grim.

The door opens.

A figure steps inside.



He's tall and lean, dressed in dark leather armor with metal studs. His face is completely covered by a cloth mask. Only his eyes show, cold and hard. One arm has heavy spiked gauntlets with clawed fingers. His other hand rests on a dagger at his belt. A chain hangs coiled at his side, and more weapons hide beneath his coat.

He moves slowly, carefully. His boots barely make a sound on the floor. He doesn't greet anyone. Doesn't look at anyone.

He sits at the table.

The staff has gone completely silent. The easy warmth from moments ago has disappeared, replaced by thick tension.

He doesn't touch the food. Doesn't even look at it.

For a long moment, there's only silence.

Then he shouts, his voice sharp behind the mask.

"Where is the fucking money, Gerta!?"

He slams a gauntleted fist on the table. The plates rattle.

"Do you think I came here to hang out with you fuckers?"

---

What does Kalila do?

Kalila’s cheeks reddened with a blush in embarrassment. Apparently not every single establishment that sells clothes is a tailor. Something to keep in mind from now on. She does smile and thank Gerta again when she assured her that Garrek would help her later. Then the topic of the pendant comes up. Apparently, Thornwick left an address behind so she could follow up on the appraisal.

After that, Kalila was able to enjoy breakfast and tea, while catching snippets of conversation around her. The peaceful atmosphere was nice, and even she tried to make pleasant conversation as well.

But that peace was disrupted by a hard knock on the door. Just like that, the peace was shattered and tension replaced it. She notes what Garrek stated and how Gerta asked him to open a door. Just from those words alone, it sounded like whoever was at the door had come for money.

Before Kalila could ask or react, Gerta returned with a pouch, and the door opened to reveal a dangerous looking man. While Kalila herself was dressed to the nines, this man was armed to the nines. So an outright fight with him could be fatal.

He proceeds to sit at a table and shout at Gerta for money. This was bad…

Kalila could feel her own anxiety rise again, and threaten to silence her. But…she knew that she couldn’t just do nothing. She had to help. It’s clear that there is some sort of plan in place if Garrek headed to the back door.

She could also feel that liquid fire react. It feels like a dog tugging at the leash, just begging to be unleashed on the man. Knowledge of incantations and somatic components flood her mind. But she is able to restrain it for now.

Instead, she decided to try and distract the man for now. Her eyes briefly scan the room for anything that could be used to their advantage. Other than that, she decides to speak up to distract the man.Hopefully what little she knows of business law from her father will help everyone here.

She keeps her composure as she simply sips her tea before commenting out loud, “I see the saying is true in every sense of the word: You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Truly, she is mimicking the ladies at a tea party who passive aggressively make jabs at the uncouth.

She then addresses the man, “You do realize that by coming earlier than what your contract dictates, you are actively rendering it null and void?”

Kalila feels her anxiety rising, threatening to silence her like it always does. But she can't just sit here and do nothing. Not after Gerta's kindness. Not after being welcomed like this.

The liquid fire in her veins pulls at her, begging to be released. Knowledge floods her mind: words of power, hand gestures, the shape magic takes. But she holds it back. For now.

Instead, she decides to try something else.

She scans the room quickly, looking for anything useful, any advantage. Then she takes a calm sip of her tea and speaks, her voice carrying the practiced calm of every noble tea party she's ever suffered through.

"I see the saying is true: You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

She addresses the masked man directly.

"You do realize that by coming earlier than your contract says, you are breaking it?"

The man stops. Looks at her. Then he laughs, harsh and mocking behind his mask.

"Contract?" He leans forward slightly, his clawed gauntlet tapping the table. "You think I'm here on a contract, girl? Who even ARE you?"

Before Kalila can respond, Gerta steps in, her voice steady.

"It's okay, sugar." She looks at Kalila, telling her without words to stand down.

Gerta places the leather pouch on the table in front of the man.

He snatches it up and opens it, counting the gold pieces one by one. Slowly. The tension in the room grows with each coin that clinks.

Kalila counts them in her head. Thirty gold pieces. Fifteen weeks of her wages. Just gone.

Finally, the man closes the pouch and stands. He gives a slight, mocking bow of his head.

"You know, Gerta," he says, his tone almost friendly now, "I've been saying this for a long time. We'll need that boy of yours to join us."

Gerta's expression hardens. "No."

"That bitch queen of yours has sent even more men to Thornwood," the man continues, ignoring her. "Countless of ours have been killed or thrown in prison. We need bodies. Strong bodies."

"The answer is NO."

The man shrugs. "Then we'll double what you pay. Sixty gold next time. To cover the cost of another soldier."

Garrek slams his hand on the table, standing quickly. "That's bullshit! You've been taking and taking! This isn't fair!"

Everything happens so fast.

The man moves like a snake. His clawed gauntlet shoots out, grabbing Garrek by the throat and slamming him back against the wall. The claws press into his skin. Blood begins to run down his neck.

"Don't be brave, boy," the man hisses.

Garrek gasps, his hands grabbing at the gauntlet, his eyes wide.

Gerta moves.

She grabs the pan of hot tea from the table and throws the scalding liquid directly into the man's masked face.

He screams, stumbling backward, letting go of Garrek. His hands fly to his face, clawing at the soaked mask. Steam rises where the tea hit. He roars in pain and fury.

"YOU BITCH!"

The room explodes into chaos.

---

What does Kalila do?

Kalila didn't let her gaze shy away from this thug as he laughed at her and asked who she was. She looks to Gerta when she subtly told her to stand down. She sighs through her nose and she watches as Gerta pays the man. Fifteen weeks of pay gone in an instant, to this man! If Kalila didn't know better, she would say that this is just pure extortion. She sets the cup of tea and saucer down on the table.

Thankfully, it seems like he was fine with the gold. But...another argument starts as he demands to have Garrek join whoever he works for. Knowing a bit of Garrek's story, thanks to Gerta, Kalila glares at the man. Gerta obviously says No, but the man persists, and even decides to double the amount next time. Kalila gasps as the man grabs Garrek by the neck so quickly, after he calls him out. She immediately stands up in shock and to help Gerta and Garrek.

Thankfully, Gerta manages to get the man to let go of Garrek with the tea! Kalila silently rooted for her. Everything explodes into chaos as he screams at her.

This time...

This time, there was no stopping that liquid fire in her veins; The dam of her restraint breaks! The wind springs to life around her in reaction to this magic, and her eyes glow with the magic once more as she loses control. Her voice reverberates as she speaks first,

"You dare to intrude upon this home, and demand more than what is freely given in hospitality?! A curse upon you for your gluttony!"

After the words were spoken, the air gains hints of red and it swirls around the man. His body is taking in less oxygen than what his muscles need, making any feat of strength much more difficult than it would originally be.

The magic doesn't stop. With one hand clutched on the vessel, another hand draws some of the iridescent smoke out, and it changes from gas to starlight that keeps changing colors in her hand! She fires the iridescent light at the man! Any wounds left behind, would allow the red air to enter and cause the wounds to fester right before their eyes.

Kalila stands, her restraint shattering completely. The liquid fire in her veins breaks free.

Wind springs to life around her, whipping at her hair and dress. Her eyes glow with that same eerie light from the night before. When she speaks, her voice carries an otherworldly resonance.

"You dare to intrude upon this home, and demand more than what is freely given in hospitality?! A curse upon you for your gluttony!"

The air around the man shifts, taking on a reddish tint. It swirls around him like a living thing. He gasps, his breathing suddenly labored, as if the oxygen itself is being stolen from his lungs.

Kalila clutches the bottle in one hand. With the other, she draws out wisps of iridescent smoke. The smoke transforms mid-air into starlight that shifts through every color imaginable. She thrusts her hand forward.

The blast of light strikes him square in the chest.

He staggers backward with a roar of pain. Where the light hit, his armor is scorched, and beneath it, flesh blackens and festers before everyone's eyes. The wound hisses with unnatural decay, and a deep rumble of thunder echoes from the impact point.

"What the..."

Mick is already moving, grabbing a kitchen knife from the counter, positioning himself.

The man clutches his chest, breathing hard. He looks at Gerta, and despite the pain, there's a twisted grin in his voice.

"Oh, Gerta. So you've been housing a magical user?" He laughs, though it's strained. "She'd be way more useful to us than your boy."

Isla immediately backs away toward the rear of the room, putting distance between herself and the fight.

The man turns toward Gerta, raising his clawed gauntlet.

"You'll still learn a lesson though!"

He swings wildly, but Gerta ducks under the strike with practiced ease. The claws whistle harmlessly over her head.

Then he pivots, using his momentum to disengage from Gerta and move toward Kalila instead, his eyes locked on her.

"Oh, you'll be VERY useful, loud girl!"

Gerta swings her pan at his back as he moves past, but he twists just enough that the pan clangs against his shoulder armor instead of his head.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Garrek shouts, grabbing another knife from the table and hurling it. The blade spins through the air but goes wide, clattering against the wall.

Petyr backs away as well, moving toward where Isla retreated.

The masked man advances on Kalila, blood seeping through his armor where her magic struck.

---

Mick sees his opening. With the man focused on Kalila and surrounded by allies, he darts in from the side. His kitchen knife flashes as he drives it toward a gap in the man's armor.

The blade finds its mark, slicing across the man's ribs. He grunts in pain, stumbling slightly.

"You're surrounded, you bastard!" Mick snarls, pulling back into a defensive stance.

---

Kalila's turn - What does she do?

The light in Kalila's eyes proceed to obscure her sclera, irises, and pupils as the magic coursing through her veins takes full control to help her through this battle. Her expression is stoic and cold as the man reveals a twisted smile in his voice despite the pain from the attacks earlier. In truth, when she heard the man make his comments, she started to spiral and doubt herself, wondering if she should have stayed quiet after all.

She doesn't seem fazed in the slightest as he advances towards her after trying to attack Gerta. Of course, that led to the man being surrounded by the rest of the Panther's Rest staff.

In a situation like this in the past, Kalila would have tried to get herself away from the attacker in a panic. But...she was eerily calm. She asserted to the man with the otherworldly echo almost overwhelming her own voice, "So be it. You have made your choice. You shall not rob anyone of anything ever again!"

Her own hand, untrained in true martial combat, picks up a kitchen knife with a new and unknown expertise and aims the blade straight for the festering wound where the Eldritch Blast hit him earlier. With a twist, no different than turning a key in a lock, a minor shockwave of thunder explodes forth inside his body, and the Hex works to fester the wound once again.

The light in Kalila's eyes spreads, covering everything until no white, no iris, no pupil remains. Just pure glowing magic. Her expression becomes stoic, cold, empty of emotion as the power coursing through her takes control.

The man's words echo in her mind. *She'd be way more useful to us.* For a moment, doubt tries to creep in. Should she have stayed quiet? Should she have hidden?

But the magic doesn't let her spiral. It holds her steady.

The man advances toward her, blood seeping through his armor. In the past, Kalila would have panicked, tried to run, sought safety. But now she stands perfectly still, eerily calm.

Her voice carries that otherworldly echo, almost drowning out her own words.

"So be it. You have made your choice. You shall not rob anyone of anything ever again!"

Her hand moves with unnatural expertise, picking up a kitchen knife from the table. She's never trained with a blade, never fought in close combat. But her hand knows exactly where to go.

She drives the knife straight into the festering wound where her magic struck before.

The man screams.

Kalila twists the blade like turning a key in a lock. Thunder explodes inside his body with a sharp crack. The hex continues its work, the wound blackening and rotting before everyone's eyes.

He staggers back, gasping, clutching at the knife still embedded in his chest.

"You... you bitch..."

He rips the blade out and throws it to the floor. Blood pours from the wound. He's breathing hard, struggling to stay upright.

Then he moves, disengaging carefully, backing toward the door. His eyes never leave Kalila.

"You'll regret this," he snarls. "My brother and I... we'll be back. And when we come, we'll burn this whole place to the ground!"

"DON'T YOU EVER COME BACK HERE!" Gerta screams, her pan still raised. "You hear me?! NEVER!"

But she doesn't follow. Neither does Garrek or Mick. They stand their ground, tense, ready, but letting him go.

The man reaches the door, still backing away, still watching Kalila with those cold eyes.

The tension in the room is suffocating. Everyone is frozen, waiting.

---

Does Kalila follow him? Attack him as he retreats? Or let him go?

There is no outward reaction as the man screams in pain and staggers away from Kalila. Internally, Kalila is scared of her own foreign magic, asking herself what she had done in fear. While the magic is in control, Kalila sees that the man is retreating, and the others are not pursuing or attacking him. She feels her arm rise up, with a bit of starlight gleaming at the center of her palm ready to fire at the retreating man. Her body was going to kill the man!

Inside of her mind or heart, she screams at herself, the magic, to stop and to not fire the Eldritch Blast.

"Why not? If this man leaves, he will be back and the element of surprise will not be in our favor," The thought poses itself in her mind in reaction to the halt.

"And if I kill him, I'll be no better than him. There's another way I can get him to be silent!" Kalila thought quickly.

Thankfully, the magic accepts the idea while the man threatens to return with his brother to burn the place down, and Gerta screams at him. After her scream, a bit of emotion finally crosses Kalila's face, a knowing smile. She addresses the man quickly, her eyes still glowing with that magic, and the hand still raised to fire if he tries to move in to attack.

"You'll have to admit defeat at the hands of a mere girl to follow through on that threat. How humiliating! But...if you don't speak a word of this encounter to anyone, you can keep your pride along with your life,"

The man stops at the door, his hand on the frame. For a long moment, he just stares at Kalila, at her glowing eyes, at the raised hand still ready to unleash more of that terrible magic.

Then he spits blood on the floor.

"Fuck you," he says, his voice rough with pain.

But he doesn't move to attack. He stays there, thinking, weighing her words. The silence stretches. His eyes narrow behind the mask, calculating something.

Finally, he looks at Gerta.

"Thirty gold. Next month. Be ready."

Then he's gone, the door slamming behind him.

The moment he leaves, it's like everyone in the room exhales at once. The tension breaks. Mick lowers his knife, his hands shaking slightly. Gerta sways on her feet, catching herself on the table.

The glow fades from Kalila's eyes. The wind dies. The magic retreats back into her veins, and suddenly she's just herself again, standing there with a kitchen knife in her hand.

Gerta looks at her. Really looks at her. There's something in her expression now that wasn't there before. Wariness. Distrust. Her eyes flick to the bottle Kalila's still holding, to the knife, back to her face.

Before Gerta can say anything, Garrek laughs. It's a slightly hysterical sound, but genuine.

"What the fuck!" He's grinning despite the blood on his neck. "That was AMAZING! Did you see what she did? That magic, that... that BLAST thing!"

Gerta immediately shifts her attention to him, her expression changing from wary to concerned.

"Let me see your neck," she says firmly, moving to him. She tilts his head to examine the claw marks, her fingers gentle despite her rough tone. "Damn fool boy, talking back like that. Could've gotten yourself killed."

"But I didn't!" Garrek protests. "Because Kalila..."

"Hush. Hold still."

The room settles into an uneasy quiet, broken only by Gerta fussing over Garrek's wound.

---

What does Kalila do?

Kalila doesn't answer the man's curse at her. Instead, she keeps the arm raised and the spell ready as the man considers his options. The silent standstill persists, until the man finally turns to Gerta and speaks to her. Apparently he decided to go back to the original payment rate of 30 Gold per month. The door slams behind him and the tension immediately dissipates from the atmosphere.

As the magic retreats back into Kalila's veins, and her eyes stop glowing, Kalila gasps as she regains full control of her own body. The light of the Eldritch Blast fades and her hands lower so she can look at both the knife and the bottle in each of her hands in shock.

She feels a pair of eyes on her and she looks to see Gerta looking at her now with distrust and wariness. Kalila's eyes widen before her gaze rapidly darts between Gerta's eyes and the items in her hands. After a couple darts, Kalila quickly yet gingerly placed the weapon and bottle onto the table, before moving her hands away and keeping them in the air with the palms facing towards Gerta. With the movements alone, Kalila hoped that Gerta would understand that she didn't want to hurt anyone else.

Before she could say anything else, Garrek started laughing! Kalila looks to him as well, startled by the unexpected reaction. She stared at him wide-eyed when his words finally made sense to her. All she could ask in response to his words was, "...What?!"

Garreck's compliments were a quite a drastic contrast compared to Gerta's wariness and current distrust.

Other than that question, she is still as she watches Gerta move to fuss over Garreck's wound on the neck. Kalila instinctively knows that she doesn't have any magic that can help with healing. So, all she could do to help was let Gerta help him.

For now, she opted to let herself fall into the seat behind her, and lean forwards to catch her breath. She was tired, but not as much as last night. Apparently using that Hex took much more energy than the blast, much to her surprise. She thought over the events that just occurred, her mind began racing once more. She stares at her hands wide-eyed, as she speaks in a whisper, "Oh Monarch...! I just stabbed a man. I almost killed him...!"

She takes a few moments to calm herself down, rubbing her hands through her hair and on her face, and taking a few deep breaths. She is able to bring her focus back to the situation back at hand. She looks up, and asks for anyone to answer as calmly as possible,

"What...was that about?"

She clarifies, "That guy just now stated that he doesn't have a contract with you...and yet you're paying him fifteen weeks worth of wages to him anyways? Why?"

Gerta lets out a heavy sigh. She walks over to a basin of water and dips a clean rag inside. She wrings it out with her strong hands and walks back to Garrek. She presses the cool cloth against the cut on his neck. The boy winces a little but he is still grinning at you.

Isla peeks her head out from the back room first. Seeing the coast is clear she hurries out with a mop and bucket. Petyr follows her slowly. He starts picking up the chairs that got knocked over.

"That was the price of doin' business, sugar," Gerta says. Her voice is thick with her accent and she sounds tired. She focuses on cleaning the blood and does not look at you yet. "We pay 'em so they don't strike a match and burn this place to ash. Simple as that."

Isla starts mopping up the tea and blood on the floor near the door. She shakes her head. "Nasty business. Every month it gets worse."

Mick walks over to where the knife fell. He picks it up and wipes the blood onto his pants leg. He leans his hip against the table.

"They call 'emselves the Vultures," Mick explains to you. "Started about seven years ago up north in Thundrastone. Was just a small group at first. But rot spreads fast. Now they are here in Thornwood too."

"They want a 'Free State'," Garrek adds. He sounds eager to talk even while Gerta is fussing over his wound. "They hate that Queen Mycena sits on the throne. They say a woman can't lead an army or run a kingdom. They want a Council of Lords or somethin' like that to rule instead."

Petyr rights a table and checks the legs. "Just a bunch of men who want the power for themselves," the old man mutters.

Gerta snorts loud. "Foolish men scared of a powerful woman. That is all it is."

She looks at you then. Her eyes are still wary. But she sees your empty hands held up. She sees you sit down in the chair looking pale. Her shoulders drop just an inch. She can tell you are frightened too.

"The Queen ain't havin' it though," Mick says. "She sent the heavy guard in last year. Crushed most of their daylight operations. The Vultures are weak now. Way weaker than they were."

"That makes 'em desperate," Isla says softly. She wrings out her mop. "They can't walk in the sun with the Queen's Guards watchin'. So they hide in the dark. They only come out at night to bully small places like this."

Gerta finishes taping a bandage on Garrek's neck. She gives his shoulder a rough pat. Then she turns to face you. She crosses her big arms over her chest.

"And that man you poked holes in," she says low. "That was Vane. He is one of the top dogs here in Thornwood. Him and his brother Vex run the local crew."

Mick nods and looks at the floor like he is remembering something bad. "Vane is nasty. But Vex is worse. When they are togeather they are a nightmare. They don't lose fights."

Gerta steps closer to the table. She looks at the strange bottle you put down. Then she looks you in the eye.

"You hurt him bad," she says. "He won't forget that. And his brother won't either."

---

What do you do?

Kalila raised an eyebrow at the initial answer to her question. She listened quietly as Gerta, Garrek, and the rest of the staff explain further. Apparently the man belonged to a group called the 'Vultures', and what they want is...to replace Queen Mycena with a group of men, because they don't believe she can rule because of her gender?! Kalila visibly struggled to hold back laughter at their childish goal.

"Those guys would have a heart attack if they meet Trisha Wrenfield!" Kalila couldn't help but think to herself. Before she could even think further about her mother and spiral again, she focuses her attention on the discussion again.

Her attention is on Gerta as she finished bandaging the wounded Garrek, and then approaches her with crossed arms. Once again, she had to fight back laughter upon hearing the names of the brothers: Vane and Vex. "Those cannot be their actual names!" Kalila thought to herself.

Once again, she pulls herself back to the moment at hand, and she feels a sense of uneasiness as Gerta looks at the mysterious bottle, before making eye contact with her and makes her serious statement with crossed arms. Kalila tries to reassure her with a hesitant chuckle, "At least they won't be so determined to go after Garrek?" She remembered how the man was so focused on her after her newfound magic acted up. Perhaps that alone would help keep Garrek safe, she hoped.

After a moment, she does stand up so she can meet Gerta's eye contact, and she dusts the skirt of her dress once more. She continues to speak, this time in a calmer and steady manner in hopes of trying to ease the current tension, "I know this isn't a guarantee, but what I said to him at the end is true. If my intuition about Vane is correct, and he took what I said seriously, then I don't think his brother is going to learn about this. Vane would have to tell Vex and anyone else who's involved what happened, and in turn, he'd humiliate himself to his like-minded peers. So, if he wanted to do something in retribution, he's likely going to do it on his own,"

She thinks over the matter further, and she asks Gerta, "Have you tried going to the guards to get help with dealing with these guys? What those brothers are doing is purely extortion. That's well within reason to get help from the guards. Plus, from what I can tell, you don't have The Ban to worry about here either, so you should have no problems going to them for help as far as I can tell,"