Room, I need a room. Dwarven tempers are rising, soon judgments will come to their fruition. This apprehension will soon be broken with flesh macabre. More blood will be spilled, but to what effect? Pawns in someone else’s game. Minds of stone see nothing but revenge. Offer to the counter offer. Death for death, an irrevocable blood thirst veiled in honor. But lives here are mere blips, implements of a grander scheme.
Vasiili regurgitates coin so naturally. Full of bile and acid, it is tainted for nothing but his ego, a selfish need to gain more. This is no offering, it is a bribe for weak hands, unable to carry the weight of its meaning. Make an enemy ruin another enemy. Corrupt those who endanger you with their honor and deal a crippling blow. Disappointing that he even thought this would work. He is irrevocably blinded by his success.
Yet to take him out is to be a puppet of an even larger scheme. With him gone, the state would annex his assets, push its own people into his trading routes. Someone is getting ready for this as we speak, I know it. We’re like puppets dangled by a silken string. A force easily redirected to ones benefit.
He knew. Someone knew… like a knife over my flesh, I slowly cut my past out, pieces I know nothing of, yet which are so dear to me. The momentum is against me. Some remnant of my past, that which they already deem with suspicion and disgust is no match to their thirst for blood of this man. They distrust me, yet I bleed for them more hen they will ever know.
The eye says to follow. Careless and cold, my only real connection, my salvation. Yet, it doesn’t know my loss. To it time never skipped. Now it watches me. What is the intent behind that stare?
Thank you for your concern, I am whole and well recovered.
A hard lie to tell, yet this is not my friend. I am empty, disadvantaged. What I say can harm me.
My journey has been quite fruitful. Gods are playing dice. They are involved now. The city of no name is a city of lies, a city of gods and fools. The architect calls it home.
I am much pleased to read your words. I’ve been disconnected as of late. I follow the group per your request and it leads me to a blood feud, which I’m sure you must by now know. Vasiili, a merchant I know little of, who is housed near the queen’s seat of rule, seems to have garnered too much attention for his own good. Coin will flow like blood. Tell me, of what importance is he, what does he know? His network seems to spread far and wide. A hole which will need to be filled. This takes me to another question. Who is gaining from this directly? If I am to do such service for a man, I’d like to at least see him in person. It is not a small favor after all.
[etching of the fallen mage’s signet ring] has made a mistake and played too close to the fire. Hope it was of not much consequence.
I must bade you farewell, time is short. Please let me know as soon as possible.
Khalid stands up, casts protective spells, puts on his cloak of flame, and flies directly to Vasiilis place. Flight is short and forceful. As he nears the compound, arrows start flying. They are no match to Khalid’s wards and most veer off. With an arrow embedded in his shoulder, Khalid lands in the middle of the henchmen, looks at who seems to be in charge, reaches for the arrow, breaks it off with not even a flinch and says, “Take me to him, he is expecting me.” The men stare at the flaming wizard, his eyes quickly stare them down, giving second thought to any further advances.