With a blast of white light the door burst open, scattering shards of wood onto tables and hapless patrons. Astonished silence filled the common room, into which sauntered a glowing man. He was an elf, clad in gleaming silver and gold armor and wearing a tabard which bore the symbol of the Imperial Archons.

Cerdon immediately knew he was the quarry those power filled eyes sought. He slowly sank back into his chair on the first balcony, fearful that any sudden movements would draw the Archon’s attention. With his mind racing through numerous possibilities, Cerdon knew he only had one real option: flight.

But no one escapes an Archon.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one afraid to be caught – a lizardman shaman cast what must have been a levitation spell and leaped through a window on the upper balcony. Cerdon watched the Archon’s eyes witness and dismiss the shaman’s escape in a flash.

Well, it’s now or never, he thought, fingering the hilt of his enchanted dagger. No one ever escapes.