Resting in the Wrong Manor

After the portal vanished, the chase had nowhere honest to go. Solar was gone. The false-party problem was not. Pringle Manor still stood around the group, but it no longer felt like a single reliable place. The room they expected was missing a portal. Faephine had seen them leave when they had not. One true guard had survived a trap built out of false ones. Somewhere outside, Point Pringle was still collapsing in pieces. The party opened more doors. What they found was not another answer, only the exhausted evidence of people living through crisis: rooms that belonged to someone, sleeping areas, places meant for bodies to stop moving. After the hallway fight, the changelings, the head trick, Ash's second trauma, and Solar's escape, the practical choice became less heroic and more necessary. They rested. Not because the danger was over. Because continuing immediately might only feed it more bodies. Maine reached for Faephine again, trying to confirm where she was, whether she was safe, and what she could see from her side of the broken connection. The party ended the session inside Pringle Manor, battered and uncertain, with Ren Yacour's survival standing as one small fixed point in a night full of doubles, portals, and disappearing exits. Solar had escaped. The party may already have been impersonated. And the next move would have to be made from inside a manor they could no longer fully trust.