Xayah huddled at a corner table, pretending to scribble notes on some old maps. A vastayan dancer across the bar captured the room's attention with a flamboyant performance, lulling the audience into an easy mood. Xayah made eye contact with the vastayan and nodded toward an Ionian soldier sitting in the back row. Time to move. The dancer flashed a knowing smile and leapt toward the soldier, letting loose a vicious kick. With bar-goers scrambling away from the brawl, Xayah surged across the room, hurling a storm of feathers. The soldier collapsed, and The Rebel's job was done.

All in the bar were captivated by Rakan's performance—all save one. Near the back of the dim-lit tavern, a silken-feathered vastayan woman stared into a spread of maps, ignoring her raucous surroundings. With a flourish of feathers, she lifted her eyes to meet his. She nodded toward an Ionian soldier in the back row, and Rakan smiled. It was time to really grab the spotlight. He dove off the stage, sliding across a bartop toward the soldier. With a stunning kick that sent the man flying through three tables, the Charmer's job was done.