Post-credit Scene One.

As Carric’s wedding occurs in Midtown, we pan over to the Noble’s Quarter.  A small study in the Balacazar Manor.  Malkeen Balakazar is standing, looking out a window onto the city.  Kobayashi is in the room with him.  Malkeen speaks. “You’re convinced this is a large opportunity?”
Kobayashi: “It could be larger than any endeavor we currently have.  You could broker power over nations.”

Malkeen: “And  . . . we should do this new business here, in the city?”

Kobayashi:  “No.  The climate here has changed.  I suggest manufacture here, but start distribution outside the city.  Sell it to other locales.  Eventually it will become pervasive.”

Malkeen, thinking:  “Show it to me again”

Kobayashi steps forward and unwraps a velvet cloth.  Within it, gleaming silver and gold metal, is a Dragon Pistol.

Post-credit Scene Two.

On a cold, dreary, and slighty rainy night, when only the most hardy or purposeful would be out on the streets, a lone figure walks calmly away from the Noble's Quarter, bypassing the gate and making his way toward the Midtown via methods thought impassible.

Moments later, a great crashing and snapping rips through the night, as the great Vladaam Manor in the heart of the Noble's Quarter is compressed and sucked into a small void, leaving no trace behind.  Alarm bells are rung and the guards race to the site, but find no fire, and no trace of anything save the empty lot left behind. Our lone figure continues his casual stroll, a glint of moonlight revealing for just a moment the satisfied countenance of Ebrahim.

Post-credit Scene Three.

Spring has arrived and the line to enter the city of Ptolus is longer than usual.  People stand and wait, frustrations mounting and arguments beginning.  “What’s the hold up?” a voice cries.  The guard at the gate barks back “The usual!  Cutbacks, no money!  Everyone leaves their post to become a Delver! We’re short-handed!”

Several hundred feet back in the line, a well-appointed carriage waits, its velvet curtains drawn clsoed.  The door to the carriage opens, and an older man makes his way out, and, leaning on a cane and escorted by two burly fellows, pushes forward to the front of the line.  Reaching the guard station, he begins shouting at the guard:

“You will expedite my entry!  I will wait no longer!”

The guard barks back, “You’ll wait your turn, same as everyone else”

The old man, clearly frustrated:  “I have been away from this city - my home - for too many years!  My legacy forgotten.  Do you know who I am?”  The guard shrugs.  “I am Iristul Vladaam!  And you will let me in so that I might see my children!”