There she is!

You wait a couple minutes with Vanessa, swapping tales, sharing concepts for pranks, and getting a decent eyeful of her cleavage.

In the middle of a story, you hear fast, heavy footfalls coming in your direction, the telltale sign of Evellyn’s boots marching towards your table. You glance over to see her, wearing a different set of clothes. It is mostly unremarkable - some boots, some pants, a linen shirt - except for the dull halfplate armor strapped to her chest, partially hidden from view underneath a dark green longcoat hanging over the ensemble. She carries a satchel over her shoulder, bulging with what you presume to be the gasbomb containers.

“Ah, there she is,” You exclaim to Vanessa. You turn back towards her to notice her starting to surreptitiously move her fingers in an arcane pattern, smirking.