Necessary Sacrifices

[Lylessa Uluki]

((This thread takes place at approximately the same time as "Bargains": http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=1572))


((NPC Post))

After their abrupt departure from the meeting of the underground dark magic society, Hornwood half-coaxed and half-dragged Panterras to Hornwood’s own home, a stately mansion in the nicest part of the city. Once there, by unspoken agreement they made their way down to the basement.

The upper floors of the Hornwood mansion were exactly what would expect of a noble’s home: tasteful, well-kept, and utterly inoffensive in furnishings and décor. It differed from the other houses on the block only in that it was decorated to reflect the personal tastes of the occupant— highly conventional tastes that would not raise the eyebrows of anyone in polite society.

The basement, however, was a different matter. Most of the space was allocated to a wine cellar and an area for storing food, but one room had been divided off, and the servants were forbidden from entering even to clean. Hornwood had ordered that room to be bricked off in the event of his death, to ensure that even then no one discovered his secrets.

In that hidden room were three makeshift altars, all of them crusted and stained with the blood that had also permanently discoloured the stone floor. Candles dripped on and around each of the sacrificial sites, allowed to burn themselves out without thought of the wax that was spilled. Countless symbols, both the arcane and the diabolical, were etched, scratched, or painted onto the stone walls. There were bones on one of the altars, something charred and unidentifiable on another, and the last lay empty, ready for the night’s sacrifice. Many, many animals of the poultry and hoofed varieties had lost their lives in that room, and yet another would join them tonight.

Hornwood did not have a particular patron to whom he sacrificed regularly. Preferring to hedge his bets, he dedicated his sacrifices to any number of dark deities, gods of slaughter, demons and devils, in the hopes of securing favour with one of them. So far he’d had much less luck with the evil beings than Panterras did. Panterras, to whom these things seemed to come so naturally, while Hornwood himself felt like a clumsy student when it came to the dark arts, a most uncomfortable feeling for one normally so self-assured.

Hornwood had not gotten the hang of sacrificing goats. When Panterras did it, it seemed so effortless and weighty and ritualistic. A quick stroke as the animal lay almost mesmerized, and then silent fountains of blood. Not so when Hornwood attempted it himself. Chickens weren’t bad because they were smaller and seemed only vaguely aware of their surroundings anyway, but Hornwood found goats too quick and crafty for his tastes. They kicked and bit and smelled awful. Hornwood finally wrestled the animal onto his makeshift altar, pinning it with his shoulder as he chanted the ritual words in between grunts and bleats. The cut took him a couple of tries, but he finally managed it. He intoned the last part of the ceremony, feeling somewhat self-conscious with his clothing and hair mussed and reeking of goat, and blood soaking unpleasantly into his sleeve.

Panterras looked on stoically during the ritual, offering neither criticism nor support. As the blood of the victim dripped off the altar and added to the stains on the basement floor, he commented mildly, “If you want to get somewhere, you really need to start sacrificing humans. They’re much more manageable, and you’ll find the power derived from them is greater by far.”

Hornwood stared at him rather irritably. “No doubt, but unlike goats and chickens and pheasants and the like, I cannot simply add them to the orders shipped to my kitchen for household dining. Humans tend to be missed when they disappear, and in spite of my good reputation in this city, if too many of them vanish from the vicinity of my house, questions will be asked.”

“I thought you were looking into purchasing slaves for that purpose?” Panterras asked with a raised eyebrow. “You said anything we needed could be acquired.”

“And indeed it can, but it takes time.” Hornwood felt like he was talking to an impatient child. “I’ve explained to you before; slaves are not bought and sold here in Marn. They will have to be purchased outside of Thar Shaddin and smuggled in secretly. Which of course cannot happen instantly, and requires the expenditure of significant coin.”

“Surely there must be an easier way. There’s a shanty town, after all. Couldn’t one simply slip in and grab an urchin or two?”

“No. I cannot be seen causing the deaths of citizens of Marn, even of those of the lowest classes. The Guards may not interfere much with the shanty town, but outright murder on a regular basis could not help but draw their attention. I am an upstanding and respected citizen, not a petty crime boss, and I would like to keep that reputation intact. People would talk. It’s better to be patient and attempt to purchase slaves covertly for that purpose. Besides, they’ll be well worth it.” Hornwood paused, enjoying the moment, one of those all too rare times he knew something Panterras didn’t.

“Well? What is it you have in mind?” Panterras didn’t sound placated, but he did seem mildly interested.

“There may be other uses for these slaves than simple sacrifices.”

“How do you mean?” Panterras looked baffled, as though he could not come up with any possible way to relate to another human being other than by sacrificing them to something evil.

“Well, it’s a shame that your experiments with Kira came to such an abrupt end, and that the healer has essentially rendered her useless for your purposes by purging the taint the blood you transfused into her infected her with. She destroyed all the power in the blood, and all your work. But perhaps it is possible to begin where you left off.”

By now Panterras truly did look intrigued. “How?”

“We’ll find another experiment subject. One who already has the blood of a demon or a devil flowing through the veins by birth. The closer the relation of the fiendish ancestor, the better. Then you can begin afresh.” And, Hornwood thought rather meanly, perhaps not mangle your new subject quite as badly as you did Kira, if you actually want meaningful results. What a botched experiment on the old man’s part!

“I believe that could work…” Panterras said slowly.

“Of course it will, and it will bypass many of the problems you had with Kira. It can only lead to greater success in your work. I have inquired after such children, but they are difficult to obtain. They are quite rare. But one can purchase anything, if one has the patience and the money.” Hornwood allowed that to sink in for a moment, then continued, “In fact, if we were to find a young lady of appropriate age, you could ensure another generation of test subjects. Breed experimental stock, if you’ll pardon the vulgar language. The purchase of a single fiend-blooded individual could be the start of years of successful experimentation not limited to what can be enacted upon a single body. It may take time, but I shall keep looking, and we shall find you an appropriate… acquisition.”

Panterras nodded, an ecstatic smile creasing his wrinkled face. Now that Hornwood had Panterras’s attention, and perhaps even a small measure of respect, there was another matter to be discussed.

“I think spying on your spy is a waste of time,” Hornwood said bluntly. “If she proves treasonous or ineffectual, we shall simply kill her and send another in her place. Soon she’ll have to reveal herself one way or the other.”

“Perhaps. But we’ve gone to the trouble of setting up the trap; we may as well complete it now.”

“No, Lord Panterras. I think there is a better use for the foundation we have laid. Using the documents we’re having forged, we should be able to talk someone into turning the two girls, Dash and Zee, over to us.”

“To what end? Though the winged one appears to have celestial and the other demonic blood, it is at most a trace, not enough to make them suitable subjects to replace Kira. Nor would it be wise to sacrifice them. Rollick and the blue bitch would go ballistic, and would hunt us down. We need to stick to killing people who will not attract attention. People no one cares about. At least till our plans come to fruition. The girls could be soldiers in our cause, I suppose, but they will not be cooperative, and it hardly seems worth it…”

Hornwood held up his hand in a somewhat imperious gesture that made Panterras cringe with irritation. “We will not keep them. We’ll take them as hostages, then offer to trade them for the father. Rollick will surely accept that deal, rather than allow his precious daughters to be killed. Once Rollick is within our grasp, we will offer him to Priscilla Malatrast. Surely the vessel of a dark god would produce something interesting in trade. Something… powerful. What do you say?”

The annoyance was thoroughly gone from Panterras’s pallid face by the time his colleague finished speaking. “I think, Hornwood, that you are proving your value this night.”

Long after the two men retired for the evening, Hornwood to the huge master bedroom and Panterras to the amply-appointed guest suite, the events of the day intruded upon their sleeping minds. Hornwood dreamt scenes of fear and doubt, being denounced as a traitor to Marn and losing his home and his reputation, while Panterras's peaceful rest was filled with pleasant dreams of kidnapping, demon-breeding, and sweet, bloody revenge.

Once morning came, Panterras bid Hornwood goodbye and returned to his old flat to see if any of his magical apparatus remained intact, or any of his notes could be salvaged.

[Quinn]

Although she didn't respond, Quinn heard both Julen and Uluki's farewells, and they made her smile - especially Julen's awkwardly wishing her good luck.

Of course, he should have said 'break a leg'. She made her way over to the residential part of town, thinking about the song lyrics as she went.

The bit where Cassandra - Quinn's character - is telling the ingenue about her sister's tragic death at the hands of the villain was almost perfect. All she'd have to do was transpose it for a man to sing and change a few of the words, and it'd be perfect. She was sure Ina and Morti wouldn't mind this use of their intellectual property - all for the good of course. In fact, if they were discovered, it would be free publicity of the sort you simply couldn't buy. The words were a little graphic, she supposed. Cassandra's a little crass and Ina was going for shock value, so dear little Leia's poisoning is described in stomach-churning detail.

Suitably done up, scarf and all, 'X' found her way back to Panterras' house on the offchance he was at home before trying to find him some other way. She let herself in unselfconciously, and grinned at the sight of the nobleman's back, bent double as he searched for something in the mess of his house.

"Lord Panterras!" she called, and as he turned executed a sweeping theatrical bow.

"Good news, milord," she said, launching straight into her report. "I have a plan. Everything is falling into place."

She smiled slowly and darkly, communicating with her eyes her knowledge of the full nastiness of what she was contemplating and apparent enjoyment of the fact. "A bard plays in an inn near the compound shortly. Kira has asked to attend his performance. It will be a private affair - just Kira, Uluki and Rollick, and the bard, who I have bought into our service, although he knows nothing but the barest bones of what is about to take place. And of course yourself - perhaps hidden. I don't know about that yet. You see - I have been speaking with Rollick on your behalf. He believes he may have been a little hasty the other night, and there is hope yet that you will not have to hide yourself from him.

"And the other ingredient... a poison. A rather nasty one. Not one generally in use among assassins, because it can be a little... volatile." Her face spoke louder than her words could - from the mild distaste on the face of even an assassin it was clear that this poison was something else. She snapped herself out of it and turned to Panterras again.

"I trust you will enjoy the show."

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

After nearly an hour of sifting through the wreckage of his possessions, Panterras startled slightly when the spy spoke his name, fearing it was the fairy woman and her loyal brutes back to do more damage. An instant later he recognized her, and he was pleased by the sweeping bow he received when he turned to face her. At least someone was still properly acknowledging his status.

He listened with interest to her words, smiling as she hit each note. “Volatile, you say? How fascinating! Do tell me more of its effects.” Poisons had always intrigued him, and it seemed a fitting end for his disgraceful daughter. Death by a blade was too noble for a traitor, and this plan would give Kira time to consider her sins amid proper suffering, without the fuss and mess of conventional torture. Yes, the spy’s idea would do well, and he graced her with a pleased smile.

“This news of Rollick is also interesting. Hasty, you say? He was quite hasty, wasn’t he? He was utterly unfair and disrespectful of his treatment of me. I don’t know if I should take him back, after that.”

Panterras’s last words were completely disingenuous. Though Rollick had angered him, it was not sufficient to outweigh their shared history, the possibility of the return of a colleague who had been with him during his Council days, and Rollick was the only person alive who could claim that. Panterras no longer planned to replace Hornwood with Rollick, not after how useful the aristo had been proving himself, but there was room for both men as members of the new Council that Panterras planned to form. Three was a good number. Besides, Hornwood was proving at least somewhat adept with magic, a skill it had long been clear Rollick would never possess. Rollick would serve the same function he always had— helpful but ultimately replaceable muscle, ready to fight and die for the Council, valued mostly for his familiarity and the knowledge he already had. Rollick knew of all the Council’s secrets, so he would either join them or die; if he joined them, so much the better.

“But tell me, what of the fairy? Is she aware of Rollick’s… reconsideration? Will she attempt to interfere?” Panterras paced a little, agitated now, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his robes. “And how did she gain such a hold on him in the first place? She used magic, I suppose. And perhaps he felt he owed her something after she saved his life? After that incident with the god, I mean?” Panterras stared at the spy, his eyes demanding answers.

[Quinn]

Quinn gave Panterras a conspiratorial smile when he registered his interest in the poison, confident that she'd hit the right note. She cast her mind back to the song.

"Well it tends to induce nosebleeds. And screaming. And there's a tendency for her to cry out her last breath on the floor/As blood came spilling from each pore. It's... messy, as I said. It essentially... makes the blood repungent to the body, and causes it to decide to leave. Painfully."

She listened intently to his ponderings about Rollick, because it was clear she would have to play this one by ear.

"The fairy knows nothing. She..." Quinn bit her lip, putting on a thoughtful, how-shall-I-put-this face as she frantically dreamed up her next lie. "As for how she won him over to begin with, I am not entirely sure. I have yet to see any evidence of magical enchantment, and one would assume that if he were bewitched thoroughly he wouldn't be recondiering his actions towards you. You may be right, it may have been that he felt he owed her."

Panterras' words at their last meeting came to mind, and she added, "And of course, she is very attractive, if you like that sort of thing. ...Muscle isn't known for its ability to keep its head around a lady." Then another thought struck her. She still felt somehow she should be proving her non-existent loyalty, and her willingness to do whatever it takes. "A fact," she continued, "which, although it previously worked to your disadvantage, may work in your favour yet." Her eyes sizzled with suggestion for a second, then were clear and businesslike.

"Anyway. I feel confident that Rollick can be won over. And we may see an end to the fairy as well as the traitor."

Quinn was quite pleased at how easily she slipped into the parlance of evil scheming bitch once more. It was sort of fun after talking to such sensitive-seeming, straight-talking nice people as you got back at the compound. She also liked the 'we'. She had been aware ever since the threat that Panterras did not entirely trust her, and was keen to cast herself as co-conspirator in his dastardly works, if that was what it took to save her neck.

"I will return, or send word, to tell you the place and time of this concert, and whether or not you need be disguised or hidden. I may use the alias Miss Lewton. Is all this to your liking?"

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

Panterras couldn’t help but smile at the spy’s description of the poison. It made a lovely mental image, his wicked daughter paying for her crimes in such a spectacular manner. He only hoped she could appreciate how she had brought it upon herself, and would repent of her treachery in her last moments. Even if she didn’t, at least he’d have the screams to console him.

And there were potential applications for such a potion in his own experiments, he realized. It might take some modification, but if he could force the body to empty itself of blood without killing the subject, it would make his transfusions of demonic blood all the more potent. He would give that matter more thought. “Can you try to acquire the directions for creating this poison?” he enquired of the spy. “There is no hurry, but it would be helpful in my ongoing scientific work. I would, of course, pay you additional money for the added trouble.”

Panterras laughed in enjoyment of the spy’s description of how Rollick had likely fallen for Uluki. It was true, men like Rollick simply lacked the mental faculties to be objective about women. “Muscle” was exactly the word. Panterras was glad to be a man of greater intelligence, and he pitied Rollick for his weakness.

He heartily approved of what he assumed was the spy’s plan to seduce Rollick, and was pleased by her confidence. “I am glad you are willing to go to such… lengths… to assist me. I see that I have done well by hiring you. I hope you will at least find some enjoyment in it, as well. Muscle does have its uses, I would assume. Unless, of course, you prefer to think of it as all business.”

Once Rollick was at his side again, Panterras would reveal to the fairy that her husband had been unfaithful to her. He couldn’t wait to see her face. He wondered if she’d cry, or simply freeze in shock. Either way, it would be enjoyable. Panterras still intended to kill her, but it would be a more complete victory if he could cause her some emotional pain before the physical injury began. He planned to savour every moment of it.

“If you wish to contact me, leave me a message here. I will return regularly to check.” He wasn’t ready to tell her about Hornwood, not quite yet. He trusted her— mostly— but he didn’t want to be in a position where he didn’t have even a single secret like an ace up his sleeve.

“Your plan sounds like it will work well. But I have concerns. Will we be interrupted? I do not want anyone to walk in before Kira’s death is complete. The little bitch deserves it, but I am not sure the local authorities would approve. I do not wish for us to be arrested. How can we be sure no one will attempt to intervene?”

“How will the bard react to witnessing a death? I suppose he is the shady sort, and enough coin will keep him quiet? And what if Rollick does not reconsider his unwise actions, and does not switch his loyalties? How would we prevent him from attacking us? And what if the fairy is able to save Kira?”

Panterras was mostly convinced of the soundness of the plan, but those details nagged at him.

[Quinn]

Panterras grinned, so Quinn grinned, even though inside she was equal parts disgusted and fascinated that anyone could possibly be that sick. She agreed to try to find Panterras the formula for the poison, which was completely fictional, as far as she was aware. Ina hated research, so it was probably made up wholesale. Not that he'd be around to collect anything from her. She felt something like a hysterical giggle bubble up inside her at the thought, but she swallowed it, even though it might have not only fit but prompted a round of diabolical laughter in her employer. No. Let's not encourage him...

When it came to the suggestive stuff... yes, hook line and sinker, but Panterras' mention of enjoyment threw her.

She hadn't been thinking about it because she hadn't been doing it, but it was absolutely true that when Quinn did employ said rather unsubtle methods of persuasion she enjoyed it. And she enjoyed the fact that she was screwing people over - in more ways than one - at least as much as she enjoyed the actual act itself, which actually she rarely stooped to purely for business. It was so hard to stay in character.

But actually the main reason the mention of enjoyment threw her was because she had come to Panterras' house preparing to feel horrible for being the sort of person to sit there and smile and pretend to conspire with someone when she was actually planning their death. And feel horrible was exactly what she had not then gone on to do. She didn't just not feel horrible - she felt exactly like she did when she was pulling off the greatest of heists: everything was there, the same.

Her stomach churned, her chest was tight, she felt about a foot off the ground and a tiny high-pitched voice inside her head was half saying, half singing 'They're swallowing it, they're actually swallowing it, I'm actually going to get away with this!'

Actually, it wasn't just like the standard incredible scheme. It was better. I have time to think about what sort of a person that makes me later. She concentrated on answering his questions.

"I can assure you we won't be interrupted. You see, I am trusted in the compound. The leader of the local warriors will be made aware of the performance, and the Lightswords will not let the authorities interfere. They are not trusted there, as all the warriors look up to Uluki, an illegal magic-user." Explanations, explanations. They were just the last few bits that had to be slotted neatly into place.

"The bard knows the girl has to die. He'll keep quiet - for the coin, and for fear of some friends of mine. I am very well-connected in certain circles."

At this point the spy sighed, and appeared to think things through. "If Rollick cannot be turned, I will invent something to distract them, and offer galliantly to escort Kira myself. I doubt that will have to happen, though. Rollick is proving very... impressionable. If I have to do it away from them, they may insist on some Lightswords being present, or they may anyway. Luckily these warriors aren't very bright. I have put it about that there is to be an element of theatre involved, and the song the bard is singing is very... appropiate, shall I say? They won't know it isn't all part of the show until it is too late. At that point, if Rollick isn't at hand to distract them, me and the bard will do so, so you can escape.

But as I say, these are contingency plans we are unlikely to need. Most likely, the fairy will be there with Rollick, who she will not know has changed his allegiance. She will suspect nothing until it is too late for Kira - there is no counteracting the poison's power once it is administered, and if Uluki tries to heal her, she will become too weak to resist anything you can dream up. If she tries to run for help or fight us, she will be outnumbered - there is you, me, and the bard, who is a decent streetfighter, and of course Rollick."

She put a particular emphasis on Rollick's name, and grinned a dark grin, her eyes gleaming, as she waited for him to realise what he wanted, what he would love to see. And as she waited, she looked him over in a new light - not as a human safe to be cracked or an intruiging puzzle to be worked out as she saw most of her victims, but as what he was - gods know how many pounds of old, sagging meat on a skeleton. And the little voice was talking to him now. I know something you don't know, and guess what it is... that's right! You're gonna die!

Oh dear. She really would have to have a word with that voice on the way back.

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

The spy’s words about the Lightswords preventing interruption brought an idea to Panterras’s mind, one it surprised him he hadn’t thought of before. It would be quite simple to just report Uluki to the local authorities and let them deal with her. Panterras was human, so he assumed they wouldn’t consider him potentially magical. He was wasted, pale, and had yellow eyes with pupils like a cat from years of black magic use, but the Guards would surely be ignorant thugs who relied on muscle, not brains. They wouldn’t notice such subtle signs of magic use when Panterras made his report. And surely they could deal with a fairy effectively. At least if the stories were to be believed, the city’s torture of magic users was brutal. Perfect for the blue bitch.

On the other hand, Panterras wouldn’t get to watch, and he had so hoped to use the fairy as an experimental subject, or at the very least to drain the blood from her body for his own magical uses, and then dissect her for further study. The brutish authories would likely do enough damage to her body to make her useless to him, and let her die with it unhealed. That would be a shameful waste. Panterras would have to deal with her himself. Unless…

“You seem very confident about Rollick’s allegiance. I hope for the best, of course, but I will need some sort of guarantee. If Rollick wishes to rejoin the Council, he cannot keep his whore. He must choose one or the other. We can find him another woman to warm his bed and satiate his appetites, but I will not have the fairy bitch around. Rollick can make his choice. If he kills the fairy where I can witness the act, and then he turns over the body to me, he can return to my side and be part of the Council I will form. If Rollick refuses, I will kill him. Tell him that. Tell him that in case he needs help deciding. The blue whore’s life or his. I trust he will make the sensible choice. No matter how good a lay she is, she isn’t worth dying for.”

Realizing how casually he was talking about asking his friend to commit murder, Panterras decided he ought to reveal the reasons for his hatred of Uluki. The spy seemed convinced that the fairy was evil, but it never hurt to reinforce that truth.

“The blue creature plays the innocent. The devoted wife and mother, the compassionate healer. Lies! Garbage! She ruined my life. She ruined everything I had. She and her friends caused the fall of the Council, a group dedicated to peace and justice and order, and to the defence of the innocent. She attacked us, fought us. Once the unleashed magic had ripped apart a chunk of the Astral Plane and she was thrust into this world as I was, she turned her hand to the release of an evil god. Rollick must play the grateful puppy for being ‘saved,’ when it was she who caused his suffering in the first place. She was the cause of that creature’s attack on the populace.”

“All this she herself will admit if you ask her. So if you wonder why she needs to die, if her act ever begins to sway you, remember that. Remember the evil she has already done. Do not allow her to do more. As a member of the Council, I am sworn to protect the defenceless, as is Rollick. That is why I ask him to kill this fairy creature who has caused pain and devastation. I am no monster, but she is, and poor Rollick is her unwitting thrall. It pains me greatly that she still lives.”

He was probably preaching to the choir there, if the spy was already prepared to betray the fairy. Still, it never hurt to remind her.

“Is there anything else you need? I would like this to go as smoothly as possible. How may I help?”

[Quinn]

Quinn was pleased when Panterras hit on Rollick's idea all by himself, but hid it and just nodded and looked serious as if she was thinking about how she could persuade him to do such a thing. When the old man finished talking, she smiled slightly, again basking in the sheer wrongness of it all.

"I'll make sure he knows. One can only hope muscle is smart enough to make the right decision." Her eyes lit up as if with an insight of her own. "Well, hey, why wait... let's make this an encore to our little show. If Rollick brings her to the performance, he can deal with the bitch there and then, and there's no way she'll be able to interfere with Kira's retribution. If he won't play, I'll bring him anyway, and not tell him you're there."

Quinn put on a nice 'listening' face while Panterras resumed ranting about Uluki, actually giving his words about the weight one generally gives the evil villain when he starts telling thin air how brilliant he is and how the protagonist is going to get it. She had to admit it was a well put-together speech, and mentally noted down some of the details for use in Ina and Morti's play, perhaps.

As for responding to it, Quinn just nodded solemnly and said nothing, in the best traditions of the henchman-lieutenant who doesn't get killed as an example to the legions of doom.

"Thank you, Lord Panterras, but all I require is your presence at a place and time to be confirmed shortly." Oh gods, I'm really going to do this. "...and the presence of the rest of my payment."

Well, said the voice sheepishly, you might as well. Hang for a sheep and all that. Besides, he can't take it with him.

She gave him a respectful yet conspiratorial smile. "If that is all...? I will leave a note here with place, time, and the details of how we stand with Rollick. Until then."

Another extravagant bow, and she headed back to the public stable where she'd left her horse last time. You could buy a night's livery pretty cheaply there - although the stablehands sometimes joked they could charge her by the hour. She really wanted a getaway on hand in the compound just in case. She took a moment to resist the temptation to see what the actors were up to, but there really wasn't time. One drink, and a quick round-up of what the gossip was downtown today, and she headed back to the compound, composing along the way.

The gossip hadn't been too promising, something about corrupt Judges, but there was maybe potential for an interesting diversion once this was all dealt with.

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

Once the spy had left, Panterras returned to Hornwood’s mansion to prepare himself. It was not every evening one attended an event like this, and Panterras intended to savour it to its fullest. He would acquit himself as a true lord, a true Council member. Last minute haste would not do. He must be ready.

He chose black velvet robes for the evening. These robes were sumptuous in texture and cut, but the sombre colour suggested mourning. It was perhaps a little premature to wear mourning clothes for someone not yet dead, but what difference did a few hours make? Panterras would soon be a man grieving the loss of his daughter, and it ought to show. He checked his reflection in the glass and nodded approvingly; he looked sufficiently grave.

There were a number of concealed pockets in the robe, their distortion of the garment’s shape masked by the thick fabric. Panterras slipped a small sack containing a generous number of coins into one of these— the spy had done well so far, and if she continued to please him, he planned to reward her amply to encourage her to help him again in the future.

He filled his other pockets with various arcane items he employed in his spellwork. He didn’t anticipate needing to use them, but he didn’t fully share the spy’s confidence about the lack of danger. Panterras had lived long enough to know danger lurked around every corner, and one must never be caught off guard. Preparation, that was the key. Last but not least, he hid a newly made charm in the small pocket in his sleeve; the charm didn’t look like much, appearing to be just a twist of fabric and human hair, but this tiny thing had the potential to bestow a particularly nasty curse on the target of his choice. He was quite proud of it, and had traded several costly items to acquire it. Panterras hoped he would not have cause to use the charm that night, but he wanted to have it on hand in case he was attacked.

All this done, he returned to his old flat to await the spy’s return, and his own daughter’s untimely death.