The Dauntless Rook (§.10)

Continued from §.09 Volfsige hung back, adjusting his newly acquired beige traveling coat and melting into the crowd as Oeric Adair moved deeper into the eastern bazaar, ringed by a small retinue of guards. He cursed. The minor legion would make any attempt upon the noble's life impossible. "Despite his skill, he brings such a… Continue reading The Dauntless Rook (§.10)

The Dauntless Rook (§.07)

Continued from §.06. Luned Fey leaned back in the old wicker chair she'd stolen four weeks ago, lowering the paper to behold a lithe, pale man, garbed in a corvine coat, who sat across the charred table. He settled down into the chair and poured some of the coffee Fey had freshly brewed looking impossibly… Continue reading The Dauntless Rook (§.07)

The Dauntless Rook (§.06)

Continued from §.05. Volfsige sat nervously within the shaded drawing room in lower eastside, wracked by his recent failure. Hands wringing the expensive cutlery as a rider might his brydel. The blond man opposite the cutthroat lit up a cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke above the table before breaking the silence. "Theed given… Continue reading The Dauntless Rook (§.06)

The Dauntless Rook (§.05)

Continued from §.04. After the concert had concluded, Blythe, Boyce, Kyne and Adair returned to the clerk whose visage bore the marks of considerable nervousness. "Ilhayl, my lords. I regret to inform ye there has been a theft." "What was riven?" Inquired Adair evenly. "Thy coat, my comitem." Boyce laughed, "Broadly, fortune smiles." The clerk… Continue reading The Dauntless Rook (§.05)

The Dauntless Rook (§.03)

Continued from §.02. When the concierge returned to his post with Geoffrey, he found three coats hanging beside his desk. Upon checking the tags, he discovered that within each, a name had been stitched by the tailor. Blythe. Boyce. Kyne. He sent Geoffrey to scour the auditorium, but no trace of Adair's coat could be… Continue reading The Dauntless Rook (§.03)

The Dauntless Rook (§.02)

Continued from §.01. * "Ah, we arrive at last!" Aldwyn Blythe declared with triumph as the four aristocrats reached the first floor lobby of Mazrak's Grand Theatre, which hummed with conversations and the busy footsteps of its numerous and well-heeled patrons. Oeric wasted no time in greeting the elderly clerk who stood behind a stout… Continue reading The Dauntless Rook (§.02)