Chapter 3 - The Hammerites

- Nightfall: Emissary of the Builder - Day 3: 6:30am

I awoke to a sound I do not enjoy hearing. I recognized it, as dreadfully familiar as any sound could be. I would not have needed to go to the window to look, but I did anyway. There, standing at the front gate to my domain, was a full garrison of Hammerite Troops. My wonderful escort, I thought to myself, cussing under my breath. I glanced at the clock on the mantle, which read 6:34 am. I hate early risers! The sound they had made came from striking a large iron sledge hammer against a large iron gong. Not one hammer and one gong, but five hammers and five gongs. If my home had not been so far from town, it would have woken up the entire quadrant. It looked like there were twelve Hammerite soldiers, and a crowd of Hammerite workers and scientists who were tending this large device sitting in the middle of my wide path. Wishing I had time to properly shower, I threw on my outfit from the last night, grabbed my cloak, and hurried down the stair, making my way to the front door.

Once downstairs, I made it halfway through my living chamber before I noticed that one of Jamesí men had dropped off a letter in my favorite drop box: the end table by the sofa. The speed of it all was no surprise, for James and his men worked very, very quickly. In a rush to get outside before the Hammers drew too much attention to themselves, I quickly read it.

D:

Intelligence will begin investigation of the Lady, effective immediately. I will begin archival work on my return, which should be today, for I have cut my vacation short due to the urgency of this matter. I am presuming this is a long-term operation and that stealth is more important than speed. Please advise if haste is warranted; and if so, to what degree we should be willing to risk exposure of our operation to the target. From the material presented I suggest we move slowly and carefully for now; if the Lady is whom I suspect her to be from this information and their disturbing correlation to certain veiled hints in ancient writings, this may be an extremely hazardous operation -- as hazardous as, and closely entwined with, events last fall. We will, of course, work to confirm or deny this hunch.

By the way, don't be too hard on Schinler. He's still pretty green. Nonetheless, his failure of nerve was serious and has been noted in his record. I have suggested to his section chief that he undergo further training or relegation to lower-stress taskings.

Ė J 22.14 24.3

The letter arrived none to soon, for it backed up my suspicions and would make my argument to the Hammers all the more forceful. I opened the door just in time to see five iron sledgehammers strike five gongs. If I hadnít been gripping the doorknob the sound would have thrown me a good distance backward. As it was it knocked the wind out of me, and caused my ears to ring for a good hour thereafter. Seeing me, the entire squad jolted to attention.

The middle gonger stepped forward and shouted, "Master Nightfall! We, the servants of his high eternal majesty, the Master Builder, stand ready to escort the Builderís Emissary to the Grand Cathedral, upon his Lordshipís, the High Priest of the Order of the Hammer, request!" At least, thatís what I think he said, my ears were still ringing terribly. I slowly walked out the door and up the short path to the gate, not wishing to appear undignified by my dizziness. I truly wished that little worm Jossimer had gotten that gong instead of me. Where was the creep anyway? I considered firing him the next time I saw him. I should have known better than to let James talk me into hiring a butler; even if he makes really good tea.

"Yes, good," I said simply, as I opened the gate and the entire group of them broke into a very brief genuflect. "Ahem, yes," I said again closing the gate behind me, when they all had resumed standing.

"Thou art prepared to travel forth now, Master Nightfall?" He shouted.

I put my hand down hard on the soldierís shoulder. "PLEASE, good sir, you do not need to SHOUT, good sir, I am RIGHT HERE, my very, very good sir."

He looked at me with a bewildered expression.

"Letís go," I said simply, giving up.

"Please step into the Automated Travel Unit!" he shouted.

I looked at the contraption, and my brow furrowed. "A horseless carriage?" I said under my breath. It was a very large contraption, mostly taken up by a riveted iron cylinder, which sat upon several large wheels. Smaller cylinders were linked to the larger one by pipes, and these smaller cylinders were linked by rods to the wheels; beyond that, I could not fathom its workings. Towards the back was perched a pair of compartments. One was occupied by a trio of Hammers, and the other was mostly taken up by a large mound of coal and a small tank of water. Crammed in on one corner was a pair of seats under a small awning. The coal furnace threw off a great deal of heat, and the occasional cinder came floating back towards me from the smokestack. The Hammers operating the beast seemed to consist of a driver, in charge, and two with shovelers to feed the furnace; all three were blackened by soot, drenched with sweat, and wearing the peculiar grin worn by those who truly adore their mechanical toy. Once I was aboard, after a slow and reluctant journey, the engineer moved some levers, and with a loud hissing noise the machine lumbered into motion...

With a jolt and a shudder, the thing started to move, controlled by a Hammerite Scientist up front, who was frantically turning valves, and pulling levels back and forth. It rotated slowly in place, until we were facing the stairway down, and we proceeded forth. I knew I was in for a slow ride, seeing as the twelve soldiers obviously planned on marching along side the thing. Suddenly it hit me. How did they get this thing up the stairway? How was it going to get down? I dreadfully faced the fact that I would soon find out exactly how, and I was not looking forward to the possibilities. I held on for dear life as the crate, being driven by six wheels, navigated its way down the winding stair, shaking like hell as the hard metal wheels struck each step, and dropped down to the next. I wondered why I hadnít heard the thing coming up in the first place, it was making so much noise!


- James: On the Job - Day 3: 8:00am

We returned from our excursion in the south, ahead of schedule, due the sudden turn in events. We were weary but happy, having visited a number of fascinating antiquities and renewed contact with old friends. But, weary or not, a situation had developed, and I soon set to work. As always, the task had several components.

Step one: I asked Corinne, my wife, to plunge into the archives. She doesn't go through them quickly -- but she goes through them thoroughly -- and thereby she picks up on scraps and threads of information that most researchers miss. She also loves working in the archives, so she went happily to work.

Step two: get agents on the job. After a quick conference with the watch-officer, we agreed to send a scholar along on the Hammerite Crypt mission. No sense sending yet another thief, as the team was expected to have stealth aplenty; but a scholar might find information the others would miss. Hopefully the others would keep the poor lad alive. In addition, after a conference with my Chief of Staff, several agents were assigned to gather information on the streets, and one to try to watch this place in the woods. Set a man to catch a man...

Step three: my job. Time to immerse myself in recent reports, and see what might come of them. Then follow those up with a bit of ancient research of my own, following up the suspicions I had mentioned earlier to Daneel.

After a day of intense work, a great deal of consumption of beans from java, and several requests from Corinne for willow-bark tea -- "These people had terrible handwriting!", she complained -- we began to have the beginnings of a picture, and I wrote to Daneel.


- Nightfall: A Conference at SoulForge - Day 3: 9:00am

"Master Nightfall, even if thou hadst more accurate information regarding this structure and its occupants, thy source is discreditable at best!" The High Priest didnít look at me when he spoke. His half-closed eyes spent most of their time examining the golden gavel he held tightly in his left hand. He sat erect in his grand marble throne. After a short pause, he looked up at me, his sharp stare attempting to pierce and wound my icy composure.

"I ask thee, what more information and creditability doth thou need? The very hinting of a rumor that such a structure exists, without record, and without warrant, deep within these woods should be enough to call you to action to investigate." I looked at him as I spoke, mocking him with the lack of intensity in my voice. His face erupted into a grimace as he saw the nodding approval of his subordinate Hammerite priests. He suddenly stood, looked away from the council, stroking his beard with the hand that did not clutch the gavel.

The High Priest slowly turned back to face the council of priests, seated around the oval table. "Brother Masok, quickly, send five of thy fastest men to the lodge in the forest. Instruct them to search the area which the Emissary hath described, form a tactical report, and return here at once." He then retook his seat.

"Yes my lord." The man immediately rose and walked out the grand double doors.

The High Priest again brought his eyes to me, but spoke to his fellow Hammerites. "If this building houses, as the so-called Master Nightfall suggests, a pagan, then we shall make an example out of it." He pronounced every syllable of my surname mockingly.

Suddenly one of the brother priests spoke up. "Lord, should we not employ the skills of the master thief Garrett in the investigation of this structure? If our servants are discovered investigating, then the inhabitants may flee, and we shall loose our chance to, as you say, make examples out of them."

The eyes of the High Priest narrowed. He let the brother finish, but it was obvious that he wasnít considering the suggestion. "The name of that man is not to be spoken within these halls! Our debt to him has been paid by Brother Karras, he is now to be considered no more than a criminal, with the penalty of death by torture on his head when apprehended!"

The brother shuffled in his chair, as if the gaze of the High Priest was injuring him. He gave half a glance to Brother Karras at the far end of the room. "Pardon my words, my lord."

"When our servants return with information concerning the location and fortification of this structure, we shall launch a full assault, crush the building to its foundations, and slay all that reside within. It shall be a grand example to ALL who would oppose our rule that our justice is swift and merciless!"

"May the Master Builder guide us to victory!" a particularly old one shouted, a shout that was greeted by many enthusiastic agreements. The High priest then struck his gavel to the table three times, and the meeting was adjourned.

"My brothers, please allow me a moment alone to speak with the Master Nightfall in private," the High Preist said, as they stood and began to talk amongst themselves. At that, that all left promptly.

I stood and looked at him, my hands resting on the back of my chair. He just stood and looked at me, his arms folded across his chest. He was rather young for a high priest. This is of course attributed to the fact that the last high priest died rather unexpectedly last winter, no doubt a result of the torture he received at the hands of the Tricksterís minions. This man was the most worthy of the old high priestís five apprentices, and was thus chosen by the council to lead. When I say that he was young I do not mean that he was youthful. He appeared to be in his late forties, a very young age for the leader of the entire Order of the Hammer. He was sturdy and tall, and didnít stand with the common frailty one may expect from a Hammerite priest. I could tell he was examining me just as I was him.

"I have only this to say to thee, Daneel of Todulem. My predecessor decided that thou art the one prophesied as the emissary of the Master Builder. Thou art the strange man who arrived at The City, having never been seen before, preforming great miracles of stone and beam, right after the return and defeat of this Orderís greatest enemy. All in the prophecy points to thee being the man who speaks directly to the Master Builder. However I refuse to believe that a man such as yourself, who has more in common with those damnable Keepers, could have anything to do with our Order. It is only out of respect to my predecessor, may his soul reside eternally by the Master Builderís side, and this council, who seem to have undying faith in you, that I recognize you as anything more than an arrogant nobleman, who undoubtedly has countless ties to the underworld. If it were up to myself, I would have you executed immediately, mutilated, your head cast in bronze and displayed on my shelf, and your burned broken body paraded through the streets of The City, as an example to all that NONE are above the law of the Order of the Hammer!" As he stood there saying this, the tension in this face grew to a scowl, and his voice thundered.

I simply looked at him coolly, and replied, in my smug manner, "The Master Builder appreciates thy skepticism, my brother. Yet faith is also needed for thee to truly serve thy master." I could almost hear the steam rising from his brow as I turned around and left the room.

I never asked to be cast in this role. It wasnít my idea at all. Still, it was very useful to have this kind of voice in the highest level of the most powerful organization in The City. I wanted nothing to ruin it. The High Priest was jealous -- very jealous. He disliked the thought of any mortal being closer to his God than he was, and he hated me for it. It made me stay on my toes, for I was sure he would jump on every and all opportunity to destroy the image the rest of the council had of me.

After a short navigation, I made my way down to Soulforge Cathedral's main hall. This place was nearly an exact reproduction of the lost cathedral in the forbidden sector, only about four times larger, and five times more mechanical. Nearly everything about this place was automated, from the shutters that opened and closed by timer, to the lanterns which lit by the press of a button, to the doors which opened automatically via pressure plate on the stone floor in front of them. The time since the death of the Trickster has been the most prosperous time in the history of this Order. New devices were being invented daily, new breakthroughs in architecture and engineering occurred at breakneck speed. The main hall of the building through which I now walked was the largest continuous indoor chamber ever constructed. When the humidity was right, storm clouds formed inside the massive vaulted room. Things like the rib vault and flying buttress made this all possible, and it was a creation which, I say in all honesty, reminded me of home more then anything else. The sight of the colored light pouring through the stained glass windows that flanked the center aisle created breathtaking beauty in a place normally considered to be cold, gray, and rigid.

I was in an interesting position, one held by very few. I could see the Order of the Hammer from the inside, rather than having it hidden by the dark iron curtain, which was all that outsiders were privy to. Yet I was not blinded into still, cold rigidness, experienced by one truly of the order, his mind filled with their doctrines and methodology. I pondered briefly what it would be like if I seized control of this Order. Could I turn it around, reforming it to be able to appreciate the beauty of creation, reshape it onto a fair and unoppressive government, or would I too become cold and corrupted? I shook the through out of my mind as I reached the huge double doors leading to the massive walkway to Town Square.


- Lytha: The Unexpected Guests - Day 3: 10:00am

Getting out of the city had become a pain in the recent months. After The Hammerites had beaten the Trickster, they stalked around as if now they alone ruled the City.

Only a year ago, you could count the number of Hammerite patrols on the streets with one hand. It was said that the Order would become extinct, because no one wanted to join them anymore. "Just a bunch of guys wishing for the old days" was what they were called. But after their glorious victory over the Trickster, after all the speeches and processions, they had convinced many young men to follow them. They gave a goal in life to the purposeless, they gave rules to the uncertain, they gave security to the anxious. Then they gave us more rigid laws than before.

And more patrols.

Startled from my thoughts by some footsteps, my reflexes led me into a shadow. As if they had heard my thoughts, some Hammerites walked along, full of self-confidence. I let them pass by and kept unseen. This time I had been lucky, once again. I sighed, and checked that my small bow was still well hidden under my cloak. Then I stepped on the street again and continued my way to the northern gate of the City.

The north gate was heavily guarded in the recent days. It seemed that the Hammerites feared a threat from the outside. Probably they had annoyed the countries in the neighborhood, or provoked a war by invasions into the other countries. Well, I don't care for politics. Politicians are only a bunch of corrupt nobles who try to rule, but in fact, they are only puppets on a stage, lead by fanatics who stay in the background.

I shrugged, and checked the bow and my quiver again. They were still hidden enough from the eyes of those arrogant guards. I lifted my hood, following the rule: If a guard thinks you are only a nice young woman with sandy hair, he will probably only molest you and never think you were his enemy. I forced a relaxed, friendly smile on my face, and stepped towards the gate.

Two Hammerite guards stood there, grinning in my face.

"Hello, missus," one of them said. From the looks of him, he was a very fresh one. His Hammerite Novice haircut was still very evident.

I nodded at him. The second rule is: If you feel so much hate against them, do not speak with them. Do a friendly smile, nod, shrug, but never say a word -- they could hear the hate in your voice.

"Walking alone, are we?" he continued. They even tried to stand more upright and to look smarter. Damn bastards.

I shrugged, smiling. At this point, it discourages them, somehow, but always. Must be the lack of contact with women in the Order. Sissies.

"Well, then, pass by, young missus," he stepped back.

Giving him a friendly smile, I left the city. I could hear them babbling at my back, but I did not take notice of it anymore. No need to waste more time than necessary with them. The friendly smile cracked off my face as I reviewed my plans.

I would now break into that lodge in the woods. I had heard that there was more loot in the deeper floors than one single greedy thief could carry in both hands. That was ideal for my purposes: I needed enough cash for the more important goals in my life. I actually only had one goal, after I had found my sister tortured and driven into madness by the bloody Hammerites -- revenge.

My last expedition into the former central Hammerite temple (before they built Soulforge) had ended in a panicked escape. Somewhere in the temple I had lost the letter my sister had written in her unreadable signs. Confused as she was, she had signed it with my name. I wondered for a moment if it would cause trouble when someone found it, but I relaxed as I remembered its unreadability. I, myself, had not been able to decipher one single word. Only my name, Lytha, at the bottom of it, and the address on its top: Master Nightfall. I had never met that man, but heard some rumors about him. Well, making contacts was never my greatest skill. I prefer to rely on myself, rather than on some contact person. You never know when theyíll betray you.

Still, I could not help but wonder if he would recognize the name. A good thief does not give into the temptation of fame, and keeps her identify secret, and I was a very good thief. Still, rumor of ones activities always tend to proceed one, no matter who one is. In some alleys, I was known as Lytha the Mad, and others, Lytha of the Golden Heart. It seemed fitting that I would be host to those two highly contrasting titles.

But then, the picture of Thaliaís scarred face and the deformed hands came back into my mind. I buried her corpse two days ago. A fresh grave in the wood behind her hut was everything that remained of her. She had managed to survive for three months after the Hammerites discarded her. Hate came upon me.

Itís not easy to write with once broken wrists. I would deliver them a payback. Thalia had been the last drop in a full barrel. My hate had now overwhelmed me. Lytha the Mad indeed -- how fitting. So heavy was the hatred that I almost wanted to leave my usual principle of staying unseen behind me. I wanted revenge; bloody revenge. I wanted to see them on the floor, enjoy their fear, and destroy them.

Lost in those thoughts, I walked towards the hunting lodge of the Lady. I did not take notice of anything, until I almost fell into a ditch. Stumbling, I came back to reality.

The lodge seemed quiet, almost deserted.

"Good for me", I mumbled, crouching forward.

I think that it is always good to have a look at the target before entering it. So, I snuck around the house. It had the shape of a five pointed star. The roof started immediately over the first floor. The entire building was made from wood. It did not look very special, apart from the five small towers on the edges of the wall and some windows with the Trickster's eye painted on them. I hoped that the rumors of deeper floors with much loot were right, because it looked disappointing from the outside.

The main gate was closed; not that the idea of entering the house through the main gate ever touched my mind. Taking the main gates of a house has absolutely no style, and very often it is trapped with an alarm system, or with guards who are easy to alert.

I shot a rope arrow into the roof of one of the towers and climbed up. The tower had one chair in it, and not enough space for any other furniture. I stumbled over it when I went to the door. Luckily, the door opened to the inside of the lodge, or else it would have been blocked by the chair. Behind the door was a narrow, winding staircase. I stopped in the small shadow by the threshold and listened to the sounds from the inside. Just another disappointment -- nothing to hear; only the wind blowing over the roof. I took the stairs and entered the first floor. It seemed that every tower had its own staircase, and all of them led into a hallway close to the outer wall. The hallway surrounded the building. I avoided the main gate - not out of necessity, but out of training. The painted windows lit the floor in mixed colors.

I chose one door to the inner rooms at random, and entered a kitchen. Some fresh food lay on the tables. Some plates were arranged on a border. They had cheerful pictures of rural life painted on them. The rustic impression was completed by a tea tray on the table. The cups had cute flowery patterns. The tea was cold. I relaxed and opened some drawers of the cupboard -- only the normal cutlery and some coins. I took the coins.

The kitchen was formed in a triangular shape, fitting to the shape of this point in the star. It had one door in every wall, leading to the other points, two plus the one to the outer hallway. I choose the left, and found a living room with a fireplace. The fire was not burning. Some shelves with books were on the center wall. I read the titles, but found nothing incriminating: only novels, and some love stories. I tugged them one by one, looking for a book-switch, and found nothing. I touched the walls, searching for trapdoors. I even crawled into the fireplace. Nothing.

I became slightly annoyed, and rushed through the other rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small office. Everything was nice and tidy. I found some jewelry in the bedroom, but nothing of much worth. A picture of a couple in front of a fireplace provoked my curiosity, but it was far too decent to be used for blackmailing -- they were not undressed. The newspaper and the bills in the office revealed nothing. It would have been only exciting for people who enjoy bets in the bear-pits. In a wardrobe were some weapons: a bow and a dagger -- items used for hunting parties. The bathroom revealed nothing but a huge bathtub. After I looked under the soap without finding anything, I got more annoyed.

Angry, I sat down and imagined a map of the house. I came to the conclusion that the nice tidy rooms combined perfectly to the inner pentagram. The outer wall was not thick enough for secret passages.

I climbed and entered every one of the five towers. All of them were similar: one chair, alone on the entire floor. The walls of the staircases were solid. I climbed on the flat roof and found no trapdoors. I went back into the house. Leaving a mess is not my style, but this time I was so enraged that I threw some of the plates with the cute paintings on the floor. They shattered with a satisfying crunch. Grinning, I looked into every wardrobe and cupboard, behind every piece of furniture, again. I threw the books from the shelves and searched for secret buttons. I found nothing and left the lodge by way of my rope.

Back on the outer ground, I realized that the house had indeed a basement. I could see a very narrow barred window, half-hidden in the earth. I had a look into the basement behind it. It was mostly dark downstairs, but I spotted some shiny golden things.

I climbed the rope again, feeling that I strained my muscles far too much with this steady up and down. I entered the tower again, wheezing.

This time I wished that I had brought a sword with me. I went into the office and took the hunting dagger from the wardrobe, and started to cut the curtains down -- no secret doors. I threw some of the pictures down to the floor -- no buttons. I opened every drawer of every desk -- no buttons, again. There was nothing under the pillows in the bed.

Running through the house in mad anger, I threw almost everything on the floor. What enraged me even more was that my footsteps sounded everywhere like I was walking over the ceiling of a huge hall. If I had found an ax, I would certainly have tried to break through the floor.

I must have run through the lodge for hours. At last, almost crying, I decided to give up. I did not even bother to take my rope arrow back. I headed to the main gate, just because it was so easy to access.

When I opened it, the bright sun shone into my eyes and blinded me. But I saw some shadowy, hammer-wielding silhouettes. Both they and I stood quietly for some seconds, frozen from fear. I regained control over my body first, turned and ran back into the lodge. Somehow, I stumbled over the lush carpet. I fought to stay on my feet. The lost second was enough for some of the smarter Hammerites to realize that I was no huge scary monster, but only a small person with a hood that tried to escape. One of them aimed his crossbow at me, and shot just when I continued my run. It went through my left shoulder and its momentum pulled me forward. I fell on my face. The sharp front end of the bolt went through the carpet into the wooden floor and nailed me to the ground. I tried to suppress the cry. I struggled to come free, but one of the Hammerites had already stepped beside me. A kick in my left side made me gasp for breath. Another kick broke my left upper arm. With the sound of the crunching bone in my ears, I was overcome by the heavy, sharp pain. Fighting for consciousness, I heard more Hammerites approach. They turned me on my back, ripping the arrow out of my shoulder. I tried to raise my hands to protect my head from the constant kicks, but I had no control over my muscles.

Fainting, I heard them say: "So, this is all we shall have for a trophy, eh?"

"But... I have seen this face before. Is this not the thief who tried to break into the old temple two days ago?" Someone tried to look at my face.

"Yes, I hadst seen that face when we chased her out. She is this thief. Left in a hurry, didn't she? A scared little coward she was. Feeling so clever." Another kick.

In the following laughter, someone said: "Thou shalt not rob from the house I have built, so says the Master Builder! We should find out what she wanted in the temple. Take her to Brother Inquisitor."


- Jyre: The Lynx Stalks the Tiger - Day 3: 1:00pm

I watched him enter the small shop from the corner of an alleyway, and smiled. Nobody noticed me. I was just another beggar to them, filthy and stinking. My face and hands were smeared with soot from the fire. My clothes stank after sleeping in the dirty washwater over night. The disguise was perfect. In many people's eyes, I didn't even exist.

"The hunt" was one of my favorite pastimes. I would choose my prey early in morning. It had to be someone reasonably rich, but not so rich as to attract an overly large amount of attention. And then I would stalk him. I would follow him from house to market, through the streets and even, once, into a church. Sometimes, when I was well off, I would spend days doing this, just to prove I could. And when the time was right, I would take him. A swift crack to the back of the head was normally enough to drop them. Then I'd take everything they had bought that day and their gold, if they had any left.

But today things would be different. Today I would not take from my prey, I would give. Today my prey was Master Nightfall.

He stepped out of the shop and for one terrifying second he seemed to stare straight at me. Then his gaze moved on and I put it down to my imagination. No one had ever seen me before. I had no reason to think things would be any different this time. I waited until he had started on his way once more, then tagged along behind. His route was winding and he stopped several times before he finally turned for home. I was just rounding a corner behind him when something tripped me. I was grabbed by the collar and hauled of my feet. Looking up, I saw him. "Master Nightfall..," I gasped.

My wits were scattered about as he slowly let go of my ragged shirt, and gently dusted me off with a few quick strokes of his gloved hand. "So, Jyre," he said with a half smile, "the lynx stalks the tiger today?" His smile then widened and he leaned against the side of the building. As soon as I regained my bearing, I noticed that we were in a narrow alleyway, about fifty yards down from the main street. I suddenly remembered why I had been following him and reached into my pocket to retrieve my letter to him. I really should not have been surprised when he started reading it out loud to me.

Master Nightfall,

Captain Els, he is sick. He coffs much and his lungs do wees. The healer man did give him medsin. Said that captain should by fire stay til better he be. To the lodge as we planned cannot we go.

I seek work, Master Nightfall. The streets be poor not, but I wish me for more... difficults. You understand? The word... Chalinge? For anything I would be grateful... Go to the Red Dragon In and make askings for me. Point you right they will.

One last thing I would ask from you. Do you no of this lodge? The words we did find made little mention. Apresheatted and needed be your helps.

Your servant,

Jyre.

By the time he looked up from reading it, I was gone.

- Chapter 2 - Rogues / Chapter 4 - A Mission's End, a Mission's Dawn

Correspondence of Thieves copyright, 2000, Steve Tremblay, Lytha, James Sterrett, Alexandria Thomson, and Daniel Todd.