Staring from his vantage point high in an Andoran Maple imported from said country, Titus grows bored as he watches over the mansion. His quarry has been gone a long time. Much longer than his intelligence has predicted they should be. His modified magical sight is about to run out and he has no more reserves to cast it with the extended range. He is about to resign himself to going in when he sees a blue flash streaking out one of the windows. At first he thinks its nothing, but then his eyes focus.
It’s that imp, but it grew! What the hell? Something happened down there. That thing is flying like a bat out of hell, or a devil out of heaven. Titus does some quick calculations in his head, and decides the imp has the target. He reads from a scroll and takes off in flight after the imp, keeping it within a hundred feat. Please don’t go far! he pleads to Cayden Cailean.
“Stay here!” he whispers, confidant the cantrip will take the message to his associate, who goes by the name Hugs. Five minutes pass and he starts to fall towards the streets as his spell wears off. He flaps his arms and whistles, and once again takes control of his flight. He has to repeat this process twice more has he flies over the waters of the Adivian. Where is this thing going?
He is in the middle of casting the spell one last time when an explosion erupts from some dozens of yards away. The explosion rips out of the ground, sending a heat wave over the flying sorcerer, interrupting his spell and somehow dispelling the safety net on the original spell. He falls towards the earth among the brimstone and molten rocks streaming from the fire-geyser. He crashes through the glass of some building, taking several cuts, bruises, and sprains has he passes through framing and luckily lands square in the indoor heated pool to the astonishment of the partygoers and escorts lazing naked in the waters.
He looks around and breaths a sigh of relief. A few meters in any other direction and he would have splat. He takes in his surroundings, the dozen beautiful topless woman, the dandies lounging on the edges along with the one or two older men, obviously the hosts.
“Well hellooo ladies!” Titus flashes his biggest grin. This is greeted with ear to ear grins from the females of the roam and chagrin from the males. Still in somewhat of a shock, the nearest guest, a redhead Titus is pleased to notice, hands him a cocktail glass with a purplish-black liquid in it. He takes a sip, taking note of the blackberry flavor taking the kick out of the vodka. “Very nice,” he turns towards a server making eye contact, points at the drink. “Another for the lady and myself.”
“Just what in the hells is going on here?” shouts an incredulous older gentleman, clearly upset about the state of the roof of his estate. Titus doesn’t get a chance to answer because the very next instant, screams can be heard coming from the streets. Suddenly shadows starting pouring in the room through the walls, one of them enveloping the old man, draining the light right out of him. Titus downs the rest of the drink, grabs the woman’s hand, and drags her out of the pool. Several of the dandies and a couple of the woman fall victim.
“What house is this?” She answers an unfamiliar name. “What part of the city?” She answers. “Follow me, I know where to go!” The where he is thinking of is a certain shrine to a dead god, as well as a headquarters to a certain group of people he knows are operating to help the people of this fine city out of their desperate situation. He pulls the naked woman past some shadows, with the rest of the similarly attired guests in tow. Where else could he go?