The need for supervision and the sprawling array of destinations means you’re often running into various colleagues, coming-and-going as you pass through the eluvians. Today, Strange has evidently packed for a slightly longer trip, with more changes of clothes necessary than the brief jaunt to Nevarra. Gwenaëlle’s gone on ahead to arrange lodging and get her ducks in a row family-wise, while Strange took a little longer to gather his supplies and come along after.

He stands on the central platform with all its various portals for a moment, taking it in; it’s so deeply similar to the Rotunda of Gateways back at the Sanctum Sanctorum. He knows he should stay on his guard in the Crossroads, but part of it still feels like home.

“Where are you headed today?” he asks Isaac. Strange is juggling a plague doctor-inspired bird mask, trying to find a way to tie it to his rucksack for easy transport. It doesn’t fit well into a bag, and he doesn’t want to crush his only mask before he has to attend all of these formal events. Why are Orlesians like this.