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Friday morning. 2:59 A.M. Nick is in his hotel room across the street from the cheap-ass motel room he's set up a false signal of his own presence placed within a ward designed to momentarily stall an umbral presence that seems to be harrassing him and a few other members of the sept from Saint Clair. His eyes are closed, senses extended across the street in nervous anticipation, left hand reaching out towards the nearby electrical outlet, ready to pull the electricity out to do his bidding if need be.
The clock ticks over to read 3:00 A.M. All seems quiet, or as quiet as it ever gets in Portland. Certainly, there's no real activity to be aware of in the general vicinity, apart from the usual sort of spirits to frequent such a shitty location as that motel. Fortunately, the nastier ones aren't around and the middling ones are all but ignoring the ward he's set up. Weaver spiders certainly aren't bothering with it, and they're the most active spirits near, and sometimes in the room.
Nicodemus waits a good five seconds past 3am, then swings his magical perceptions briefly back to his own hotel room to check for any abnormalities before looking back over to the motel room across the street.
His hotel room seems absolutely the same. Nothing has changed or appears to be in the process of changing.
Nicodemus continues watching the other motel room, occasionally eyeballing his own hotel room, for the next 15 minutes. He figures even supernatural beings can be late sometimes, because every so often he is, too. But after 15 minutes, he'll be headed to bed for the night. Busy afternoon and evening planned. Rest would be good.
The first inkling that something's happening comes across the street, as planned. His fake hotel room, on both sides of the Gauntlet, starts getting colder. It's very subtle. He doesn't really notice it until it's already happening, but then it's clear that the temperature over there has dipped. Several spirits in rooms nearby abruptly flee. Some go to lower floors, otherwise actually leave the building entirely.
Nicodemus observes and focuses his attentions on the motel room across the street, engaging all his magical senses and trying to get a glimpse at two things: (1) what the presence looks like and (2) how effective his warding seems to be functioning. Although he's more interested in spotting what the thing actually is.
Visibly, he sees nothing, at least not right away. The room seems as empty as it has; emptier, now that the Weaver spider that was sitting on the phone has skittered out. The temperature drops further. It must be about 40 degrees over there now. Then there's a sort of...his mind has trouble making sense of it. It's not visible, but he can still See something wash over the room, a presence of some sort, like a very thin black fog. It's certainly not the sort of thing he saw happen when he looked back through time at the writing incidents previously.
Then, in the umbra, just outside the warding circle, there's a foot. No, a hand, a clawed hand that looks very much like a crinos hand, black furred, attached to an arm or leg that goes up to about the elbow and then abruptly cuts off, as if it had just stepped through an invisible doorway. It's followed by a long snout that's both wolfish and not, equally black, but a little too long, a little too pointed to belong to a proper wolf. A second arm and hand, a neck...something walks through into the umbral motel room on all fours. Nick's mind tells him it's a very large wolf, hispo perhaps, and it takes several moments for him to work out that it is most certainly not.
It has no eyes, and no socket or indent where eyes should be. The black fur is bristled and sharp looking, like a porcupine, and sticks out like a ridge along the creature's spine, and then down a long tail that looks almost lizard-like in shape. It doesn't reflect light, this strange fur, giving the odd sensation now and again that Nick is looking at a two-dimensional image, but it exists in three dimensions, and as it nears the ward its jaws open, revealing long, dangerously curved teeth and a black forked tongue that flits out between the canine fangs.
"Damn. You are one /fugly/ son of a bitch," Nick mumbles under his breath as the quadrupedal monster is slowly revealed to his senses. But other than that, he simply sits still, waits, and does nothing but watch. Unless the thing manifests and looks to where the lock is hidden, at least.
It snuffles at the ashes of the warding circle. Nick can feel a slight tug between monster and the circle's magic, as if it had reached out and plucked at the fabric of what he has woven. It doesn't step inside, but begins pacing around the outer edge, occasionally stopping to sniff at it again. Several more times, he can feel that same sort of 'tug' as it goes.
Nicodemus watches from afar as the creature probes and sniffs at the warding circle once. The second time it probes and sniffs at the warding circle, Nick cants his head . He promptly gets to his feet, hand going to his key necklace, and walks quickly towards the door to his hotel room. One eye remains closed so he can observe what's going on across the street and the other eye is open so he can maneuver around his immediate environment. It's not an easy feat to manage, so he doesn't go at even half the speed he'd be able to muster if moving from A to B had his full attention.
Once it's made a full circle around the ward and stopped again, the monster lifts its head. First it sniffs the air. Then it 'looks' back to where it emerged from seeming nothingness. Nostrils flare, jaws part once more. And then, in a terrible repeat of what happened when it arrived, another monster, nearly identical, but somewhat smaller and thinner, stalks into view beside the first. It, too, sniffs at the air.
Nicodemus exits the hotel room and heads down the inside fire escape stairs, right hand gripping the railing hard, sliding rapidly down it, gripping hard again, so as to not lose his balance. His hand slides off the end at the landing and he discovers that the next step down--is not actually a step down. He stumbles and falls to the ground, but fortunately doesn't wrench an ankle, bang his head, or otherwise harm anything other than his pride.
When he's able to look again, after regaining his balance (if not his dignity), both monsters are still at the circle, but now they are on opposite sides. It's more than a tugging now, it's stronger, and Nick gets the sense of his ward being neatly pulled apart before the magic that powered it simply ceases to be. Did they eat it? Absorb it? Negate it? It's not entirely clear.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).
Nicodemus spits out a few muttered curses as he regains his feet, grabs the railing that leads to the ground floor with his right hand again, and moves to get out of the building while splitting his perceptions between his immediate surroundings and the umbra in the motel room across the street. He gets three steps down before his foot partially connects with a step and he trips, falling forwards in what might be a painful spill. Fortunately, his grip on the railing is strong and he's able to prevent himself from tumbling down the stairs in his haste and disorientated state. Regripping the railing, he proceeds--but at a much slower pace. He--FINALLY--reaches the ground floor and turns to exit from the side door into the parking lot.
The monsters are milling about now, sniffing, occasionally snapping at each other in a way that seems neither playful nor aggressive. They seem oblivious to the exploits of the mage across the street, but as Nick reaches the parking lot, one of them sticks its jaws...somehow it does it almost physically. It sticks its jaws into the Gauntlet itself, and starts ripping.
Nicodemus pushes the door to the hotel open and makes his way out to his car, fumbling for his keys in the process. He pulls the keys out, miraculously having gotten the right key for the Suburban's door, and clambers into the car. He puts the key into the ignition and turns the car's engine over. He doesn't--perhaps wisely--put it in gear. And all those times he spends reversing his car into position for a fast getaway? It might, finally, be about to pay off.
As his car turns on, he can't help but notice that the clock on the dashboard reads: 3:00 A.M.
Nicodemus glances sideways at the clock in the car. He looks out the window, double-checking that the world has not frozen itself in a time-stasis somehow when he wasn't looking.
Things certainly...seem to be moving as they should, though the street is very quiet. There's a light breeze. A street light is flickering across the way. Over in the motel, there's no longer any need to keep an eye on both Umbra and Realm, because both wolfish monsters have torn their way through, evidenced by their presence around the motel room's bed and the ragged hole in the gauntlet they've left behind. A few Weaver spirits have started immediately threading it back together, but not nearly as many as one might expect.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).
Nicodemus focuses his attention on the lock under the mattress, reaches out with his left hand towards the motel across the street, and then extends his right out towards the hotel room he just left. The suitcase padlock that was beneath the motel mattress disappears and appears on the bed in the hotel across the street. Nick puts the car into gear, keeping his foot on the brake, but ready to bolt depending on what the two creatures do next.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).
They stop. As alien as the two monsters look, it's easy enough to read confusion into their twisting ears and sudden sniffing at the air. The larger of the two moves toward the motel's window, still snuffling, and then suddenly vanishes. No, no it moved. It's outside the window, still sniffing, but now on the motel's outside walkway, with its clawed crinos hands braced on and gripping the railing as it leans over.
Unexpected. Interesting. These might be words Nick might utter if he weren't concerned about life and limb at the moment. The creatures seem to clearly be tracking the shadow echo Nick's made of himself, currently located on the padlock on a 2nd story hotel room bed. So what if he masked his echo--effectively removing his 'signature' from reality? He glances at the clock as he reaches out to wrap space around the padlock, hopefully making it look as if Nick simply no longer exists in the realm or the umbra.
The ears of the monster that's outside perk up. It sways its lowered head from side to side like a pendulum, as if trying to recapture the lost 'scent'. Inside, the second monster shoves its head under the ratty mattress, followed by its shoulders and hands. While the claws do their own damage, the mattress, already in terrible shape, seems to wither slightly on contact. Springs thin and rust. The bedding frays, padding crumbles even further.
Nicodemus keeps still and maintains his focus on keeping the padlock, pinging his location, masked in its own little bubble of space as he waits anxiously, watching to see what the creatures do next.
The larger outside monster pushes back from the railing and drops back onto all fours. It turns for the window again, and again seemingly vanishes, except that it's back inside, window intact (or at least as much as it was before). The other monster has knocked the now very very ratty mattress off of the rest of the bed by now, but it seems to have lost interest in anything further to do with that object. No, instead, both monsters tear at the same time back through the hole they made in the gauntlet. Most of the Weaver spiders scatter as their work is undone, but one about the size of a very large cat is either reluctant or simply not quick enough, and the larger monster catches its leg in its jaws just as the Weaver spirit starts to move off. The spider twists and flails, trying to bite at its captor, but the other bites down hard on one of the other legs, and none of the scattering spirits seem remotely inclined to turn around and help their fellow. There's the strange sensation of the monsters moving back into an invisible doorway, this time together, and they and their prey abruptly vanish from all senses entirely.
The clock ticks 3:01 A.M. There's a tiny scratch in the transparent surface that wasn't there before, which reads: 'Enola'.
Nicodemus breathes a sigh of relief as the monsters disappear. He promptly adds a "fuck" under his breath as he spies the writing on the clock. He drops the effect in the motel, maintains the one in the hotel (masking his true location), and pulls out his cellphone to text out a warning. "Gay," he says as he pulls the device out of his pocket and awakens it. "Kargamis," he says to the thin air. "I need you to take a message to Silvertip. And Jacinta. My apologies for the distance involved and the late hour." He then goes to work typing out franticly worded texts and then talking to the invisible spirit messenger.
The monsters do not reappear, even to investigate the return of his suitcase lock. Gradually, if he checks, the temperature on both sides of the motel room returns to normal, and the Weaver spiders return in greater numbers, swarming over the hole they left and very quickly knitting it together, though it will be some time, Nick might suspect, before they can return it to its previous thickness.
After the messages are dispatched, hopefully prior to something untowardly happening to their varied recipients, Nick refocuses his attention on the motel room. While things are still fresh, he extends his magical senses that way, looking ever so slightly back in Time to try and get a feel for the mental states of the creatures--the intent that had been going though their minds.
The result of this new scrying results in Nick feeling very, very nauseous--an unease that lingers for a few hours. While he can't really grasp 'intent', at least in a really solid way, he does get a sense that both monsters were driven by the idea of 'find'. It doesn't feel like 'find Nicodemus' or 'find mage'. More an overall encompassing driving urge to...locate. But locate what?
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From: Nicodemus Subject: Messages from the mage
To: Riley, Salem, Emma, Little Silvertip, Jacinta
Cc: Val, Sheogorath
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Texts arrive at approximately 3:20am Friday morning. From Nick. To Salem, Emma, and Riley.
"LOOK OUT!"
That text is quickly followed by a much longer one:
"I'm in Portland. The trap I set to help reveal whatever was mucking around in the spirit when the writing appeared worked, and I was able to successfully create a false 'ping' as to where my true location was, evade them for 21 minutes and 8 seconds, AND then hide myself from these creatures. I got a look at them and can draw them, but they're slippery and exist in multiple dimensions. I think they got frustrated at not being able to find me because they attacked a bed where I'd planted a decoy earlier. Hopefully none of you were or are going to be attacked by them. I think there's something else out there, too. When the creatures came through and entered the spirit where the decoy/trap was set, that room's temperature dropped. However, I was elsewhere, the creatures couldn't find me, but SOMETHING still left a note scratched onto my car radio: "Enola". (Enola Gay?) However, the temperature inthe car didn't drop. I think the cold and the messages may be coming from two different things. Just a hunch. I'll try and finish up my business in Portland soon and get back to home. I'm going invisible for a few days at least (in case the creatures come back to see what happened to me), but you can still reach me by phone."
Silvertip and Jacinta get a visit from Kargamis, Nick's Chimera gaffling familiar, who relays basically the same information, Nick's phone number (if needed), and offers to take a return message to the mage.
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The clock ticks over to read 3:00 A.M. All seems quiet, or as quiet as it ever gets in Portland. Certainly, there's no real activity to be aware of in the general vicinity, apart from the usual sort of spirits to frequent such a shitty location as that motel. Fortunately, the nastier ones aren't around and the middling ones are all but ignoring the ward he's set up. Weaver spiders certainly aren't bothering with it, and they're the most active spirits near, and sometimes in the room.
Nicodemus waits a good five seconds past 3am, then swings his magical perceptions briefly back to his own hotel room to check for any abnormalities before looking back over to the motel room across the street.
His hotel room seems absolutely the same. Nothing has changed or appears to be in the process of changing.
Nicodemus continues watching the other motel room, occasionally eyeballing his own hotel room, for the next 15 minutes. He figures even supernatural beings can be late sometimes, because every so often he is, too. But after 15 minutes, he'll be headed to bed for the night. Busy afternoon and evening planned. Rest would be good.
The first inkling that something's happening comes across the street, as planned. His fake hotel room, on both sides of the Gauntlet, starts getting colder. It's very subtle. He doesn't really notice it until it's already happening, but then it's clear that the temperature over there has dipped. Several spirits in rooms nearby abruptly flee. Some go to lower floors, otherwise actually leave the building entirely.
Nicodemus observes and focuses his attentions on the motel room across the street, engaging all his magical senses and trying to get a glimpse at two things: (1) what the presence looks like and (2) how effective his warding seems to be functioning. Although he's more interested in spotting what the thing actually is.
Visibly, he sees nothing, at least not right away. The room seems as empty as it has; emptier, now that the Weaver spider that was sitting on the phone has skittered out. The temperature drops further. It must be about 40 degrees over there now. Then there's a sort of...his mind has trouble making sense of it. It's not visible, but he can still See something wash over the room, a presence of some sort, like a very thin black fog. It's certainly not the sort of thing he saw happen when he looked back through time at the writing incidents previously.
Then, in the umbra, just outside the warding circle, there's a foot. No, a hand, a clawed hand that looks very much like a crinos hand, black furred, attached to an arm or leg that goes up to about the elbow and then abruptly cuts off, as if it had just stepped through an invisible doorway. It's followed by a long snout that's both wolfish and not, equally black, but a little too long, a little too pointed to belong to a proper wolf. A second arm and hand, a neck...something walks through into the umbral motel room on all fours. Nick's mind tells him it's a very large wolf, hispo perhaps, and it takes several moments for him to work out that it is most certainly not.
It has no eyes, and no socket or indent where eyes should be. The black fur is bristled and sharp looking, like a porcupine, and sticks out like a ridge along the creature's spine, and then down a long tail that looks almost lizard-like in shape. It doesn't reflect light, this strange fur, giving the odd sensation now and again that Nick is looking at a two-dimensional image, but it exists in three dimensions, and as it nears the ward its jaws open, revealing long, dangerously curved teeth and a black forked tongue that flits out between the canine fangs.
"Damn. You are one /fugly/ son of a bitch," Nick mumbles under his breath as the quadrupedal monster is slowly revealed to his senses. But other than that, he simply sits still, waits, and does nothing but watch. Unless the thing manifests and looks to where the lock is hidden, at least.
It snuffles at the ashes of the warding circle. Nick can feel a slight tug between monster and the circle's magic, as if it had reached out and plucked at the fabric of what he has woven. It doesn't step inside, but begins pacing around the outer edge, occasionally stopping to sniff at it again. Several more times, he can feel that same sort of 'tug' as it goes.
Nicodemus watches from afar as the creature probes and sniffs at the warding circle once. The second time it probes and sniffs at the warding circle, Nick cants his head . He promptly gets to his feet, hand going to his key necklace, and walks quickly towards the door to his hotel room. One eye remains closed so he can observe what's going on across the street and the other eye is open so he can maneuver around his immediate environment. It's not an easy feat to manage, so he doesn't go at even half the speed he'd be able to muster if moving from A to B had his full attention.
Once it's made a full circle around the ward and stopped again, the monster lifts its head. First it sniffs the air. Then it 'looks' back to where it emerged from seeming nothingness. Nostrils flare, jaws part once more. And then, in a terrible repeat of what happened when it arrived, another monster, nearly identical, but somewhat smaller and thinner, stalks into view beside the first. It, too, sniffs at the air.
Nicodemus exits the hotel room and heads down the inside fire escape stairs, right hand gripping the railing hard, sliding rapidly down it, gripping hard again, so as to not lose his balance. His hand slides off the end at the landing and he discovers that the next step down--is not actually a step down. He stumbles and falls to the ground, but fortunately doesn't wrench an ankle, bang his head, or otherwise harm anything other than his pride.
When he's able to look again, after regaining his balance (if not his dignity), both monsters are still at the circle, but now they are on opposite sides. It's more than a tugging now, it's stronger, and Nick gets the sense of his ward being neatly pulled apart before the magic that powered it simply ceases to be. Did they eat it? Absorb it? Negate it? It's not entirely clear.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).
Nicodemus spits out a few muttered curses as he regains his feet, grabs the railing that leads to the ground floor with his right hand again, and moves to get out of the building while splitting his perceptions between his immediate surroundings and the umbra in the motel room across the street. He gets three steps down before his foot partially connects with a step and he trips, falling forwards in what might be a painful spill. Fortunately, his grip on the railing is strong and he's able to prevent himself from tumbling down the stairs in his haste and disorientated state. Regripping the railing, he proceeds--but at a much slower pace. He--FINALLY--reaches the ground floor and turns to exit from the side door into the parking lot.
The monsters are milling about now, sniffing, occasionally snapping at each other in a way that seems neither playful nor aggressive. They seem oblivious to the exploits of the mage across the street, but as Nick reaches the parking lot, one of them sticks its jaws...somehow it does it almost physically. It sticks its jaws into the Gauntlet itself, and starts ripping.
Nicodemus pushes the door to the hotel open and makes his way out to his car, fumbling for his keys in the process. He pulls the keys out, miraculously having gotten the right key for the Suburban's door, and clambers into the car. He puts the key into the ignition and turns the car's engine over. He doesn't--perhaps wisely--put it in gear. And all those times he spends reversing his car into position for a fast getaway? It might, finally, be about to pay off.
As his car turns on, he can't help but notice that the clock on the dashboard reads: 3:00 A.M.
Nicodemus glances sideways at the clock in the car. He looks out the window, double-checking that the world has not frozen itself in a time-stasis somehow when he wasn't looking.
Things certainly...seem to be moving as they should, though the street is very quiet. There's a light breeze. A street light is flickering across the way. Over in the motel, there's no longer any need to keep an eye on both Umbra and Realm, because both wolfish monsters have torn their way through, evidenced by their presence around the motel room's bed and the ragged hole in the gauntlet they've left behind. A few Weaver spirits have started immediately threading it back together, but not nearly as many as one might expect.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).
Nicodemus focuses his attention on the lock under the mattress, reaches out with his left hand towards the motel across the street, and then extends his right out towards the hotel room he just left. The suitcase padlock that was beneath the motel mattress disappears and appears on the bed in the hotel across the street. Nick puts the car into gear, keeping his foot on the brake, but ready to bolt depending on what the two creatures do next.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (63% full).
They stop. As alien as the two monsters look, it's easy enough to read confusion into their twisting ears and sudden sniffing at the air. The larger of the two moves toward the motel's window, still snuffling, and then suddenly vanishes. No, no it moved. It's outside the window, still sniffing, but now on the motel's outside walkway, with its clawed crinos hands braced on and gripping the railing as it leans over.
Unexpected. Interesting. These might be words Nick might utter if he weren't concerned about life and limb at the moment. The creatures seem to clearly be tracking the shadow echo Nick's made of himself, currently located on the padlock on a 2nd story hotel room bed. So what if he masked his echo--effectively removing his 'signature' from reality? He glances at the clock as he reaches out to wrap space around the padlock, hopefully making it look as if Nick simply no longer exists in the realm or the umbra.
The ears of the monster that's outside perk up. It sways its lowered head from side to side like a pendulum, as if trying to recapture the lost 'scent'. Inside, the second monster shoves its head under the ratty mattress, followed by its shoulders and hands. While the claws do their own damage, the mattress, already in terrible shape, seems to wither slightly on contact. Springs thin and rust. The bedding frays, padding crumbles even further.
Nicodemus keeps still and maintains his focus on keeping the padlock, pinging his location, masked in its own little bubble of space as he waits anxiously, watching to see what the creatures do next.
The larger outside monster pushes back from the railing and drops back onto all fours. It turns for the window again, and again seemingly vanishes, except that it's back inside, window intact (or at least as much as it was before). The other monster has knocked the now very very ratty mattress off of the rest of the bed by now, but it seems to have lost interest in anything further to do with that object. No, instead, both monsters tear at the same time back through the hole they made in the gauntlet. Most of the Weaver spiders scatter as their work is undone, but one about the size of a very large cat is either reluctant or simply not quick enough, and the larger monster catches its leg in its jaws just as the Weaver spirit starts to move off. The spider twists and flails, trying to bite at its captor, but the other bites down hard on one of the other legs, and none of the scattering spirits seem remotely inclined to turn around and help their fellow. There's the strange sensation of the monsters moving back into an invisible doorway, this time together, and they and their prey abruptly vanish from all senses entirely.
The clock ticks 3:01 A.M. There's a tiny scratch in the transparent surface that wasn't there before, which reads: 'Enola'.
Nicodemus breathes a sigh of relief as the monsters disappear. He promptly adds a "fuck" under his breath as he spies the writing on the clock. He drops the effect in the motel, maintains the one in the hotel (masking his true location), and pulls out his cellphone to text out a warning. "Gay," he says as he pulls the device out of his pocket and awakens it. "Kargamis," he says to the thin air. "I need you to take a message to Silvertip. And Jacinta. My apologies for the distance involved and the late hour." He then goes to work typing out franticly worded texts and then talking to the invisible spirit messenger.
The monsters do not reappear, even to investigate the return of his suitcase lock. Gradually, if he checks, the temperature on both sides of the motel room returns to normal, and the Weaver spiders return in greater numbers, swarming over the hole they left and very quickly knitting it together, though it will be some time, Nick might suspect, before they can return it to its previous thickness.
After the messages are dispatched, hopefully prior to something untowardly happening to their varied recipients, Nick refocuses his attention on the motel room. While things are still fresh, he extends his magical senses that way, looking ever so slightly back in Time to try and get a feel for the mental states of the creatures--the intent that had been going though their minds.
The result of this new scrying results in Nick feeling very, very nauseous--an unease that lingers for a few hours. While he can't really grasp 'intent', at least in a really solid way, he does get a sense that both monsters were driven by the idea of 'find'. It doesn't feel like 'find Nicodemus' or 'find mage'. More an overall encompassing driving urge to...locate. But locate what?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Nicodemus Subject: Messages from the mage
To: Riley, Salem, Emma, Little Silvertip, Jacinta
Cc: Val, Sheogorath
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Texts arrive at approximately 3:20am Friday morning. From Nick. To Salem, Emma, and Riley.
"LOOK OUT!"
That text is quickly followed by a much longer one:
"I'm in Portland. The trap I set to help reveal whatever was mucking around in the spirit when the writing appeared worked, and I was able to successfully create a false 'ping' as to where my true location was, evade them for 21 minutes and 8 seconds, AND then hide myself from these creatures. I got a look at them and can draw them, but they're slippery and exist in multiple dimensions. I think they got frustrated at not being able to find me because they attacked a bed where I'd planted a decoy earlier. Hopefully none of you were or are going to be attacked by them. I think there's something else out there, too. When the creatures came through and entered the spirit where the decoy/trap was set, that room's temperature dropped. However, I was elsewhere, the creatures couldn't find me, but SOMETHING still left a note scratched onto my car radio: "Enola". (Enola Gay?) However, the temperature inthe car didn't drop. I think the cold and the messages may be coming from two different things. Just a hunch. I'll try and finish up my business in Portland soon and get back to home. I'm going invisible for a few days at least (in case the creatures come back to see what happened to me), but you can still reach me by phone."
Silvertip and Jacinta get a visit from Kargamis, Nick's Chimera gaffling familiar, who relays basically the same information, Nick's phone number (if needed), and offers to take a return message to the mage.
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