It began with a bad dream.
Sorrow lay on the ground choking to death on her own blood, a dagger sticking out of her ribs, cutting through her lungs. Varis Nailo stood over her, his beautiful face serene.
"Did you think that nothing would happen?" he said. Sorrow coughed up more blood. Varis leaned closer. Some of the blood spattered onto his face, but he did not seem to notice.
"Did you think that there would be no ramifications?" he said, his eyes deep, lavender, ad so very far away.
He reached down and gently shook Sorrow's shoulder, "Domi, domi you must wake up."
He shook her shoulder again, a look of concern in his eyes, "Domi! Wake up!"
Sorrow opened her eyes to see those of Zook, the gnomish wild mage, "You were having a dream, domi, I had to wake you, I apologize. There is a messenger waiting for you in the main reception room."
Sorrow rose and donned a robe muttering to herself. There was a messenger waiting for her in the reception room. He bowed formally and handed her a sealed scroll, with a smile on his uninteresting face.
Sorrow took the scroll and waved Zook to pay the messenger a tip, which he did. She had already turned and was leaning against her counter unfurling the scroll. The scroll was simple enough, typical message merchant fair. It's contents made Sorrow's blood run cold. It contained a single word: "Rael".
"I have performed the calculations a thousand times, father. You are incorrect." Asche said to his father again. His father muttered in return questioning both Asche's lineage, and his intellectual capabilities.
The door to the meditation chamber shook in its frame under the onslaught of Jur, Asche's orcish seneschal. "Messenger for you, sir." the orc roared. He always roared. He was an orc, what did you expect him to do? Whisper?
"A moment, Jur." Asche said as he dealt with his father. He slipped the ring off for a moment of peace and quiet. His father would rant on for several minuted before he realized that Asche wasn't listening.
The messenger was from the Merchant Message Service. The scroll a typical merchant scroll, nd the tip a couple of coppers that didn't really matter. The contents of the scroll was an invite from Rodar Pashar, a powerful nobleman in the area. He was requesting a meeting at Huruul's Trading Emporium tomorrow night.
A matter of extreme and urgent importance. Aren't they always?
Asche's finger ran over an imperfection in the scroll and a closer look revealed a barely perceptible watermark; a sun with six rays in a zig zag pattern. Asche did not recognize it.
More updates later…