Ellison walks down the stairs, and enters Randal’s study, where he is at his table writing in his book.
Next to Randal is the stack of books that Ellison had brought back from Hluthvar.
“They got Kells Sir. They have a sharpshooter in the party, and he got him.
Randal slowly turns from his work and looks at Ellison.
“It doesn’t matter, he can be replaced and he knew too much, but make sure to move his body into the runs in the corner, and then I will deal with it later. We have the books – that is what is important, and I think you should prepare to leave so she can have them.
And where are they now?”
“Somewhere out there – I have sent the hunters to track them, and have ordered them to wake Juxl. He alone will kill a couple of them, and the rest we can deal with.”
“Beware my dear friend – the most important task, is that you get going with the books, and then quell your pride, and let me handle the adventurers.
Ellison nods, bows, and turns and leaves.
Randal turns his attention back to his, lifts his shoulders and prepares to let the words flow again, his pen inches over the paper.
He hesitates, he simply sits there – nothing happens. Then he smashes the pen in to the book, breaking the the pen.
His face darkens, almosts cramps, he is frothing, and is almost choking on the anger he tries to contain.
“Rot in the Hells, Carandini – you put me here, you took my life away, you left me with nothing.”