“Oh yeah?” Fassn says. “Go on then. Do something alchemical.”
The alchemist shrugs, as though nothing could trouble her less. As she does so, her scar catches the hearth’s light, and reflects in a shimmering wave, like a silvery thread.
With a grand gesture, her robes snapping as whips, she produces, and shatters upon the floor, a glass flask, which when shattered (as above), produces a noxious odour. A low fog creeps across the hardwood as the flask’s contents dissipates.
At first, drunken patrons, led by the drunken innkeeper, hurl slander at the alchemist for harshing their buzz (and other crimes). But soon, a tide comes in upon the mind. Fassn breathes deeply. Abia inspects the fog. Shyan and Cang leap at the alchemist, who deftly dodges away.
“You’ve goods for me?” she asks.
The team blinks. Then everyone in the inn falls in love.