Afla Cencin gathered up her things and prepared to make the teleport back to Trebor. Her pack wasn't that full or heavy in a material sense, but it was weighty in the metaphorical sense: all new-clothing, a copy of Days of Falling Skies, a new pedicure kit for maintaining her talons. The absence of her old things bothered her on some level, but also felt freeing. She was (almost) a new person, and having mostly new things to go with it felt right.

She flicked her tail and forced her musings out of her head. The teleport back to Trebor would be slightly more risky then the one to Chedal because there wasn't a dedicated destination Circle that they could use. Well, not one they knew about, which amounted to the same thing. Lady SiDabolo seemed confident in her skills, so Aflia wasn't too worried. It would be good to see Aris again, to enjoy the fair without concern for court politics, to have an escape of a sort.

Mul stared at the slim tome in her hands. It wasn't a large thing, but it was an important tome. It contained her adventures since she had walked away from Glacierheart two years ago, all of the entries that she would ordinarily have put into the Shaman's Records. She felt honor-bound to send it north to her people, even if she no longer lived with them. It would likely cause a stir among the shamans, for she had left no explanation as to why she had left, or where she had gone. This tome would offer some answers, and likely bring seekers out looking to ask her more questions.

But as Mul thought things over, she decided that it wouldn't matter in the long run. The dwarven captain of the Dethlak already carried word north that there was opportunities to be had in establishing trade routes to Althiem, and she wasn't exactly inconspicuous in that place. Unless she vanished a second time, someone would put things together and find her. That being the case, she had no real reason to not add her work to the Records.

She set the tome into its packaging, folded the paper closed, and tied the twine shut.

Lady Ilelahne SiDabolo poured over a scrying bowl, searching for a suitable teleportation circle in or near Trebor. Thanks to Aflia and Mul, she knew enough for a semi-blind teleport into the area, but that always risked under- or over-shooting the elevation, or not accounting for all of the vegetation / ponds / rivers, or one of a dozen other things that would result in discomfort, inconvenience, or death. She wasn't too worried about 'jumping blind' if she did have to: she could use the same empty hilltop that Mul had used at her target.

But her professional pride wouldn't let her settle for good enough and almost safe. Not when she had other methods at her disposal, like this scrying bowl. she could look for... there! It wasn't the kind of teleportation circle that she was used to at all. It was well-hidden, both in the physical realm and from magical scrying. But well-hidden wasn't the same as invisible, and the lack of magical 'noise' in a perfect circle had drawn her attention. She pried gently at the concealment, coaxing one Rune at a time into view. Eventually she had the sequence she needed to use the circle as a target, so she pulled her view upwards to get an overview of the area around the circle. The circle was located in a quiet corner of the convent: a secluded and subtly well-defended set of guest quarters. That explained the concealment spells: the circle was intended as an emergency exit for important guests, not common usage. The concealment spells were intended to conceal the circle from anyone seeking a magical entrance into the convent who didn't already know about it.

Lady SiDabolo felt a sense of pride at having pried the secret of the circle out of its hiding place. But the little inconsistencies about it and its concealment bothered her. It was concealed well, but not perfectly. It wasn't in quite the right place for an emergency exit. The Runes were close to the standard teleport circle Runes, but not exactly right. She decided to take a second look at the area around the circle. When she did, she found several well-hidden traps waiting to ambush anyone who didn't have the correct sequence for the circle and disarm the alarm spells woven into the room.

Lady SiDabolo sat back and thought about the room and its contents. Idly tapping a finger on her desk, she went over what facts she had about the circle and the room it was in. The more she thought about it, the more she smelled something fishy. no doubt the circle would work for an emergency exit, and could be used as a clandestine entrance by a select handful of people. For everyone else, it was a carefully-baited trap. But the presence of such a well-designed trap also indicated that there was a second teleportation circle. One that was almost certainly undefended but even more cunningly hidden, relying on its slightly more obvious twin to draw attention.

With this in mind, Lady SiDabolo began her search anew. This time, she went looking for the physical necessities of a teleportation circle instead of the distinct magical signature of an empowered one. It would need to be large enough to move several people at once, possibly an injured person on a stretcher, so it would need a similarly large room to house it. It would need to be in the secure section of the guest quarters, easily accessible in case of emergency, but not obvious to an attacker. It would likely be unempowered to eliminate any magical signature at the cost of a slightly longer activation time.

She eventually found it under the rug in the hall outside of the bedrooms. A simple circle and set of runes set into the floor, unempowered but with power-reserves attached and ready, and pre-keyed to a single destination. It could be activated by someone of zero magical talent if they knew the ritual of activation. But as with all teleportation circles it had a target sequence for inbound teleportations. Lady SiDaboilo took one last scry of the surrounding room before she was satisfied. She had her target circle.

He stood in the sunlight and looked down across the wooded foothills at the sea beyond. He was on an island, but it was not Alexandria. He scratched his chin, trying to recall how he had gotten here. He recalled grabbing a mark of rank not his own, a necessity to open certain doors in his flight. he remembered getting hit in the back with... something. Probably a bolt or arrow, but her would never know for sure. As he fell to the ground, he had felt something pulling at him. Given his current body, the mark of rank must have held a fail-safe contingency spell. Whomever he had taken the mark from (he couldn't remember) must have preferred this form of existence to death. Still, there were signs of life in the woods and along the coast. He set off towards the town, leaving the ruined structure he had emerged from behind.