No Need for Magic

Those who know Harpies know that when they attack, they attack by swooping down from dark skies and grabbing those who are easiest to grab. Amin knew Harpies and if this Clamor of Harpies tracked with the norm, his plan would work...

"Is that blood?"

It was blood, just not his own, and damned if he hadn't gotten just enough on him to be noticeable!

Amin feigned a stagger as he approached the watchmen blocking his path through the city gates.

"Harpies! Harpies have come!"

In that moment of stunned silence while the soldiers absorbed the news, there was a shriek from some dark and semi-distant alley within the city.

They'd gotten to the boy.

Amin had had to gut him to reclaim the prize now wrapped in a tiny bundle tucked into his belt. Falling to the ground, he leaned entirely into his imaginary pain.

"Frith's mercy! The pain!"

Rolling around in the dirt in glorious "agony", he pulled the talisman from its folds. Immediately, it burst forth with a bedazzling blue light, saturating with an accusatory energy all who witnessed it and alerting the Gorgons.

All of them now were guilty. All of them would pay.

As the first few victims were claimed and panic ensued, Amin extinguished the talisman's light amidst the folds of its crude leather sack, abandoned his affected pain and army crawled as quickly as possible toward his deliverance through the massive iron gates of Verbosh.

A soldier's boots temporarily impeded him. A sentry unphased by the chaos and still paying attention.

With a wry smile, Amin regarded this last hindrance as he went for the pistol hidden in his cloak. He wouldn't need magic for this.