A Near Riot! Alchemists In Panic After Their Guildmaster Flees!

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Ermyc Norwood - the shrewd, coin-sniffing, gem-rubbing leader of Essembra's Guild of Alchemists - was seen fleeing Essembra to the south on the Sembian road. Alone but for two donkeys, a rickety cart, and what looked like a chest indubitably brim-filled with valuables, the rumor mill can barely contain itself.

He must've been Melsany's secret lover!

Clearly he was involved in the death of Lord Ilmeth!

Was the whole guild?


An angry mob, armed with pitchforks and torches, quickly descended upon the guild in demand of answers! Of justice! Of a nice, big, guildhouse-fueled bonfire!

Cooler heads prevailed, however, after Melchior of Tyr stepped forward and promised the mob that he and his god would ferret out any lingering corruption.

The next morning, the guildhouse still stands, albeit passersby seem to give the building a wide berth. For now, the populace seems willing to await the verdict of the Evenhanded, as pronounced by his servant and the paladin's fellow investigators.
"Every hour wounds. The last one kills."