“My tree is a twig! This is bad! Where did mage go?!” Tekkittir yells, hefting her spindly growth of a club—now the size of an infant sapling rather than a full-grown tree—against a nearby table leg to disappointing effect. The party’s unexpectedly disrupted teleport to Mohkba changed each of the adventurers fundamentally; while Tanhoj and Vic were used to being of a reduced stature (albeit only a few feet rather than a couple millimeters), their half-orc companion was easily the most distraught by the situation.
“Don’t panic,” Mykail says, testing his legs before easily springing several feet into the air despite being an inch tall, “things could be worse. At least we’re in Mohkba; there’s no reason to be short tempered about it.” Before he could crack another size-related joke, the half-elf’s companions shoot him a stare colder than the chillest Klavekian wind. “Look,” the bard says with a serious tone, “this isn’t as untenable as you’re all thinking it is. Yes, our blades are likely of little use, but imagine how much harder it will be for the P.R.A.N.K.S.T.E.R.S. to find us now? 
I’m sure that they know the biomancer has been eliminated and now we’ve got a distinct advantage over an entire guild of sneaky criminals keen to stab our backsides. This is a good thing. Kind of.”
Stephni shakes her head, slapping the plucky bard on the shoulder. “He’s right. And Jesker—thrice damn his name—seemed to realize something was going wrong as he finished the spell so it’s only a matter of time before we’re back to normal. Until then we should be taking advantage of this..anomaly, and figure out what the P.R.A.N.K.S.T.E.R.S. are up to so that when we’re able to act again, we can do so swiftly.” She looks around, delicately resting her gloved fist on her chin thoughtfully. “Where do you think we are right now? Is this the Carpenter’s Quarter or the Divine Quarter?”
Looking around carefully and making some calculations with his fingers, Justahn grumbles a bit and says, “if you like I can cast a fly spell to get a bird’s eye view, but gold to bullion says that we’re in the Carpenter’s Quarter. People in the Divine Quarter would have nicer shoes.”
“I’m in agreement and while I’d like to confirm our suspicions, avoiding casting spells might be prudent,” Mykails says. “We did just get shrunken down to the size of bread crumbs thanks to the Sanctioned Arcane Practitioners and I’m not at all keen to draw their attention in our current state. Let’s make for the Red Palace—however it is the P.R.A.N.K.S.T.E.R.S. are planning on using those abominable creatures, the castle is sure to play a part.” Looking down the dirty city street that more resembles a canyon than anything else, the half-elf grins, “besides, I’m sure getting in will only require a little bit of effort.’”
Using her enormous club Tekkittir handily breaks through the door to the tavern and, weapons readied, the group charges into an empty bar. After swearing in a colorful variety of languages that surprise even Justahn, Stephni dejectedly grabs a bottle from behind the counter and steps outside, complaining that the trip back to Mohkba will take forever and that convincing the guard that they’re not criminals will be a nightmare, gradually listing the crimes they are accused of with a contempt unbecoming of her title. 
“I’m not so sure that’s a fine indicator, big guy.” Vic knelt down to the ground, peering into the puddle with keen halfling eyes. “A feeling isn’t much to go on. That said I don’t see why we’d want to stay in Alucinar any longer than we have to. Captain sing song there certainly can’t stay for much longer…and…that’s Jesker in the puddle there. The wizard.” Sure enough—though hard to see—a vision of the wizened old mage was in the metallic liquid, waving the group toward him.
