The group took an hour to prepare themselves and give Alice time to copy down notes and maps with her invisible ink, checking weapons and armor, spell components, and making sure everything was securely stowed or destroyed to not leave any evidence behind.<br/><br/>“Okay,” Tamarie rubbed her hands together in anticipation, “we’re all ready to go.  Goss’ mansion is through the parks and art districts, then we can sneak into his study from the outside, according to the floorplan.  Avoid notice, but act natural—not casual, nobody’s casual here, they’re either hiding or out protesting and fighting in the streets.  We sneak over, infiltrate the window, burgle the place, and get out of this crazy place.  If anyone challenges you, just cut them down and keep going—another body isn’t going to arouse suspicion, and we’re going to be long gone by tomorrow.”<br/><br/>The other agents nodded, making sure sword and spell were ready just in case, and stepped to the door.  It was quiet outside in this neighborhood, and they were able to slip out without notice on the empty street.  Weaving their way out of the residential slums, they were able to confidently walk past a few nervous individuals who averted their gaze and quickly shuffled away.  At the edge of the main thoroughfare, a mob was starting to build, listening to a demagogue haranguing about some subtle political failing of the latest outgroup, which had so recently been synonymous with their own, but were now unrepentant villains who represented the downfall of freedom and morality, and must be dealt with to the fullest extent of the law.  “The law” appeared to refer to the pitchforks and clubs the crowd was eagerly handling as they listened, getting more agitated.  In their distracted fascination, however, it was easy for the elves to circle around alleyways and cross over a dark, unoccupied section of the main street into the parks district.<br/><br/>Here, Isarn had apparently been graced by artistic architecture, statuary, flower gardens, and greenspace.  Now it was all either forgotten or targeted, with many statues decapitated for representing some out of fashion leader, or artistic expression itself representing the bourgeoisie’s extravagance and wasteful allocation of resources.  Graffiti was layered over even more graffiti on arches, shrines, benches, and gazebos, those that hadn’t burned down.  The topiary figures had overgrown, becoming shapeless blobs choked with weeds and vines, and the flowerbeds trampled and even splashed with old blood.<br/><br/>“What’s the point of a revolving door of new governments if they care nothing for preserving what they had and lost,” Kieyanna murmured, brushing the dead plants as she passed by.  “Sometimes you have to root out rot to grow, but this city is slowly burning itself to nothing…”<br/><br/>Coming to the museums and galleries, they didn’t fare any better in the face of competing revolutions.  Hardly a window was intact, doors were either broken down or boarded and barricaded, and there were piles of trashed and burned art, books, and history up to one’s head in several plazas.  Fortunately the riots had already picked this area clean, and there were only a few vagrants sheltering in the gutted buildings.  As the party came to the upper class residences, it was clear the focus of many mobs’ rage was directed here.  Ash and blood were everywhere, a few buildings were merely stone skeletons or reduced to rubble.  Some had been appropriated by the Revolutionary Council and were more or less intact, with banners displaying the correct tone of solidarity and resistance against the “powers that be.”  According to the intelligence provided, Citizen Goss should be occupying a particular mansion on a hill, looking down even on the surrounding and formerly-luxurious homes.  The surrounding iron fence was intact, and the guard’s gate was in fact fortified with revolutionaries on watch for enemies of the state.  Again, it was fortunate for the Wasp Queens that the irregulars were by definition unorganized and mostly amusing themselves with gambling and gathered together out front.  Just one poor guard was tasked with actually patrolling the perimeter, and they simply waited for him to pass by before climbing the fence and hiding in the overgrown hedge hugging the mansion.<br/><br/>Faunra took a grappling hook and tossed it to the roof.  With practiced ease, it caught and held fast, allowing her to nimbly climb up to the second-story window.  Peeking inside, she saw the study was dark and unoccupied and the window was itself unlocked.  She clambered in and waved the others to follow her up as she stood watch.  Inside was a mix of organized chaos—filing cabinets were everywhere, maps and folios piled on tables, corkboards covered in pictures flowcharting allied and/or heretical political organizations, and in one corner, piles of deeds, misbegotten jewels of the aristocrats, and coin liberated from the vaults of the corrupt, now waiting for the Revolutionary Council to spend.  It was dim inside with just the light of the moon and stars, but they were able to make their way well enough to examine the desk and cabinets.  The desk was locked, but Tamarie was able to jimmy it open in just a minute.  Inside were many notebooks, folios, memos, manifestos, and correspondence.  Scanning through, it seemed Goss was not only communicating with others in the Revolutionary Council, but other organizations, making secret treaties, negotiations, double-crosses, or conceding resources in trades.  While the manifestos declared uncompromising integrity to whatever vision of nationalism and sovereignty it promised, and the deaths of whoever their enemies were, his personal letters showed political trades, contradictions, and even betrayals in order to gain power or eliminate internal rivals.  These alone might be enough to bring his downfall among his own people, always thirsty for intrigue and blood, and the thoughtfully collected treasures would make quite a nice bonus for the Wasp Queens themselves.<br/><br/>Just as they were shoveling the gold and jewels into satchels, though, the study’s door slammed open, nearly off its hinges.  “LIGHTS!” a voice shouted in command, and everburning torches activated all around the room, not only illuminating the scene, but the mirrors behind the magical torches made a baleful focus on the elven intruders.<br/><br/>“So, it would appear that the Enemies of Galt come prowling from without as well as within.  While we purge ourselves of Weakness and Corruption, Enemies from outside our borders come to rob The People of their goods and heritage, and besmirch the Revolution itself!”  The doorway was filled with dark silhouettes, barely visible against the glare of the lights, and the booming voice that confronted them had a literary cadence—one could hear the weight of words, exactly how they would be later published.  Coming into the light were a dozen thugs with clubs, and leading from the back, a more formally dressed, middle-aged man, his suit tastefully worn and slightly disheveled to avoid appearing too fine.  “Vigilance is the guard against Deceit and Treachery, and skulking, tricksy Foreigners will never prevail against Honest, Strong Citizens!  Seize them!” he called out, stabbing a finger at the elves.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">This could go into a short encounter, or just segue directly into getting to Shendilavri, or at least the Abyss.</div></div>