“You’re not going to hurt anyone.” It would be thematically appropriate for both her words and the whole bard spymaster thing if Beleth had just materialized from the shadows. But she’s not quite that leveled up on barding, so instead she appears at the doorway, arms crossed and expression grim. “Some of us can do it without it being tracked back to other elves.”

Her eyes flick to Sorrel and Adasse as she walks into the room. They, perhaps, are aware of the entire gang that overnight had mysteriously vanished, to the last man.

“Though, that means that we’d lose the message that we’re sending. It would just be done to punish them. Which they deserve, of course, but that has to be taken into account. Though—we should do something that we can be obvious about.” She trails over to Sorrel now, standing next to him, chin set, and eyes hard. It’s been a long couple months since Sina’s death, and Beleth’s patience for shemlen bullshit has been long gone.

“There should be some noise made about this. Some push back, besides them all just getting their faces kicked in. They need to hear us, because we’ve suffered in silence for too long. Let them know that’s not going to fly anymore.” There’s a brief pause as she muses over her own advice. “We could send letters.” The bane of all politicians.