So…as a considerate DM, I realize that I had a bit of a gap previous to my last post. So in lieu of a full post, I present a bit of and Interlude here in our story:
In the corner of a journeyman’s tavern sit three men cloaked in deep shadows.
“Our contact is late. Filthy humans, unreliable, may her Blessed webs entangle them all.” Murmers the man seated in the center to his companions in a click-murmer styled language.
“I see him entering.” Clicks the one on the right.
A brute of a man, takes off his officer’s cloak, and settles down on the fourth chair at the table. He leans in and speaks in a conspiratorial tone “Gents, our arrangement must be completed tonight. Thars some tough looking men that’ve come to town. Quick and clean, and they’ll have none the reason to stay.” He passes a short scroll to the man on the left, who slips it into an interior pocket. A “click-murm” and the center man nods in approval.
Raising his hood slightly to better gauge this soldier sitting directly opposite him, and small bag of white slips into view. “Payment has been made to the House. The contract is accepted. Our conversation is at an end.”
The armored soldier takes his cue to leave by pushing back from the table and rising, never feeling the slight pinprick under his arm. He makes his way out of the tavern, where he suddenly feels quite ill.
His breathing becomes labored, and his armor slowly drags him to the earth.
He collapses on the side of the road in a puddle of mud and filth. As his vision begins to fade, he sees three pairs of expensive black boots step into view.
“Click-click-murn” is the last he hears before his heart fails.