Edmond
Slowly, Edmond clenched his shaking fists, as he glared at the southern mage and his companions. Ak'Taran looked at him with a cold, pointedly neutral expression, while the Di Zeforika cousins couldn't hide their amusement. Saya gave him a wink, while Murak bit down onto his lower lip to prevent himself from laughing. Edmond was unsure whom he would rather kill right now.
“I...”, he mumbled and ak'Taran raised an eyebrow. “I apologize, Magister ak'Taran” Ak'Taran gave him a mild smirk, followed by a generous nod, his expression now pleased and almost serene. “Why, I accept your apology, Meadows”, he spoke in a mockingly benevolent tone. “Just remember to treat your betters with respect next time. Mind your position”
“Oh, I'm sure Edmond won't forget this”, Sulman growled as he gave Edmond a brief, barely notable nod. He didn't need to voice his gratitude, for Edmond saw the thankful look in his eyes, disappearing immediately as he turned back to the Uthari. “Now, Menchal, can we proceed with the meeting, or is there anything else you would like to clarify?”
Menchal's calm smile faded, as he briefly narrowed his eyes. “That would be all, Sulman”, he confirmed. “Now, I am well aware that you and Liscom have managed to free the Master without involving any of us...” His voice sounded notably displeased as he said this and he took a deep breath before continuing. “And I understand that you have spoken to him”
He raised his eyebrow again and Sulman sighed. Just thinking about this moment, six months ago, caused Edmond to tremble. The hairs on his arms stood up, as he looked at his friend. “It was not exactly a conversation. Though the master has been freed of the prison his brother forced him into, he remains shackled, impaired. Without a body, he cannot interact with this world”
“And yet he spoke to you”, Murak di Zeforika growled. “Just you and the necromancer and your farm boy” His voice was showing slight anger and as little as he thought of the man, Edmond could even understand why. Borbarad has revealed himself to Sulman and his followers, while thoroughly ignoring the Uthari. If their roles were reversed, Edmond would certainly feel the same as Murak did right now. “I was there too”, Urdo interjected, his fiendish smirk directed at the portly mage, causing Murak to clench his fists.
Sulman shook his head. “You're not listening, di Zeforika”, he spoke in a sharp tone. Menchal was powerful and his influence over the southern cults was tremendous. Saya was his favourite and therefore not someone who should be angered either. Murak meanwhile, he was nothing but Saya's oafish cousin. Edmond allowed himself a small smirk, knowing that a mediocre talent for necromancy and random cruelty wouldn't be enough for Murak to make his voice be heard in this council.
“It was not a conversation, despite what you may have heard”, Sulman growled, before thoroughly ignoring Murak, instead focussing back at Menchal. “Think of how we perceive this world. What you see, what you hear, what you smell, all of these senses are real and yet, how would you describe sight to a blind man, or hearing to a deaf one?” He took a deep breath. “This is what our interaction with Borbarad has been. Not a conversation, but rather a new sensation, something that defies explanation”
Menchal thought of this for a moment, before he gave him a nod. “I can follow you, go on”, he confirmed and Sulman leant back in his chair. “We felt the master's presence all around us. There was no doubt about it, there was a good with us on that day”, he mumbled and Edmond glanced down at his own, shivering hands. What Sulman spoke, it was true. Though this sensation had faded the moment their master had left them again, the memory of this first meeting with Borbarad, it would remain with him forever. Something to treasure for the rest of his life.
“How do you know it was a god?”, Saya spoke hastily, her eyes widening as she realized the implication of her statement. “I mean... I don't doubt the Master's divinity, I never would!” Menchal placed a hand on her forearm. “And no one doubts you, mylady”, he assured her in a calm voice, while sending a cold glare to anyone in this round who might dare. Asmodeus slightly shook his head, Edmond avoided Menchal's stare and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Urdo smirking at the Mengbillan mage.
“What I mean is, how do you know it was Borbarad?”, Saya spoke up again. “Do you have any proof it was him and not some beast from beyond the spheres that tricked Liscom into releasing it?” Sulman raised an eyebrow, before he shook his head. “No proof you could understand, Saya”, he replied. “You weren't there. It was... eye-opening. Borbarad was all around us and we felt his very essence, reaching out to us”
By now, Harun was leaning closer and a raptured smile formed on Asmodeus' face, while Reo Quendan Gorbas tried his best to fool the others into believing he knew exactly what they were talking about. And perhaps for the first time since Edmond knew them, the Uthari were listening carefully. “We felt his will and... in his current condition, I don't think he is capable of lies or trickery. The being we encountered was Borbarad...”
In this moment, glancing to the side, Edmond saw movement at the open door that led into Gorbas' garden. There was a large owl sitting on the ground, with dark brown feathers, sprinkled with black. Somewhat unnerving were the feathers covering the owl's face, who were ghastly white in contrast, in a shape that vaguely resembled a skull, with a pair of amber eyes staring right at him. Of course, as a studied mage without any prejudice, Edmond knew that the skull owls of northern Aventuria were by no means the harbingers of bad news the peasants of Meadows considered them to be. More alarming, however, was the fact that according to his lessons, the skull owl was a solitary predator, who would avoid a crowded city such as Punin at all cost. Furthermore, they weren't native to Almada in the slightest...
“Uh, Sulman...”, he began, but the other mage ignored him, as he continued to speak. “In this moment, we felt his thoughts and desires as if they were our own”, Sulman explained. “We felt his gratitude, more than anything else. Generations of Borbaradians have sacrificed everything for this moment and he is well aware of this. Borbarad wants to reward us, he wants to stay true to the promise he gave to his followers all these centuries ago in the Gorian desert. There is just one last thing that needs to be done” He leant forward. “With Liscom dead, the Master will need a new body”
“Is that all?”, Harun interjected. “It should not be too hard to find a good one. I have a dozen slaves with bodies worthy of a god. You should have said something and I would have brought them with me” Sulman shook his head. “It's not so simple, I am afraid”, he disagreed. “By a god's standards, every mortal body would be flawed. Even your strongest slave would be too weak to hold the master's essence for long”
“Liscom's ritual...”, Menchal realized and Sulman gave him a nod. “Drakesfield was by no means a large region, but Liscom had to wring the last ounce of life from it to strengthen his own body”, he confirmed. “Hundreds of lives, all taken to free the master and a single narrow-minded fool who made it all for nought when he murdered Liscom in the moment of his triumph”
“To be fair, I have been able to look through Liscom's notes and I doubt his method would have been a lasting success”, Asmodeus spoke up. “Any mortal body, even one strengthened by Liscom's ritual would burn out eventually” Sulman nodded, although reluctantly and as Edmond noticed this, he gazed to the side again. This time, the skull owl was gone, which was just as concerning as its previous presence. “Sulman...”, he hissed again, but this time, his friend was so caught up in the conversation that he didn't react, likely didn't even notice.
“It would have worked long enough for the Master to find a more permanent solution”, he argued. “Our best bet would be to use the work Liscom prepared and refine it, make some adjustments. With his notes, we might be able to continue with his plan. One thing must be certain, at the end of it, we need to have a proper body for Borbarad, no matter the cost”
“Second Drakesfield?”, Urdo asked, not without curiosity in his voice and Edmond shot him a brief glare. What had happened at Drakesfield had been necessary, but only a dark mind would find joy in it. He only found solace in knowing these people had died for a good cause, even if they, at the time, surely didn't see it that way.
To his relief, Sulman shook his head and this gesture briefly made him forget about the owl. “I would rather not”, he stated. “Matters of morality aside, which I am sure we won't find any common ground within this room, it would simply take too long. Liscom prepared the ritual for years, he collected paraphernalia from across the entire continent, he charmed a priestess of Tsa, he tricked the authorities and he went where no mage ever went before” He sighed. “We simply don't have the time”, he then stated. “Worse than that, the murderer, Delian of Plainsbridge, has gotten involved in the case”
Edmond clenched his fists and he noticed Harun spitting onto the ground at the mention of that name. Reo Quendan Gorbas narrowed his eyes at the Tulamid, but said nothing. “That means Dexter Nemrod is hunting us now”, Asmodeus mumbled, to which Korobar shrugged. “Let him hunt us down”, he growled. “I have a score to settle with Plainsbridge and his master”
“Too dangerous”, Sulman disagreed, his voice not without sharpness. “Trust me, I am certain Nemrod will not live to see Borbarad's new world. Among our enemies, he stands for the old guard, for stagnation and ignorance like no one else. He is Reto's soldier, Hal's spy and Brin's puppeteer. He has always preferred breaking over bowing” He shook his head. “But he is a dangerous man to fight against. We should leave him to Borbarad”, he decided. “Once he has his new body, that is”
“And yet you fail to offer us any way to actually do this”, Menchal replied. “I understand what you wish to do, but how could you hope to succeed in mere months when it took even the great Liscom Ghosipar several years?” He leant forward, completely ignoring Edmond, while carefully glaring at Sulman. “Do you have any actual suggestions, or are you just talking too much?”
Sulman narrowed his eyes, but before he could reply, Asmodeus interjected. “If a mortal body is not enough, what about something a bit more sturdy?”, he brought up. “A golem made of stone or steel. I might know a man in Mirham who can help with that” Sulman seemed lost in thoughts for a moment, before he shook his head. “Golem's are built to serve, but Borbarad shall be no one's slave”, he declared. “And even if we are to do this, what ritual are we supposed to use to offer this golem body to the Master? It's not as if anyone ever tried to bind a god before”
“What about...”, Menchal began, but in this moment, as Edmond glanced to the side, he saw the owl again. This time, it had come closer, directly staring at them and very clearly listening to every word they just spoke. Within its amber eyes, there was genuine intelligence, as it slightly turned its head to look Edmond right in the eye.
“Sulman!”, he barked, interrupting ak'Taran and grabbing his friends' shoulder. This time, Sulman reacted at once, but so did ak'Taran. “For crying out loud, Meadows!”, he barked, as Sulman followed Edmond's gaze right towards the owl. “Didn't I just tell you to mind your position?” Sulman however had jumped up by now and Edmond only threw the briefest of glares at ak'Taran.
“Oh, I think Edmond did just that”, a woman's voice replied and it took Edmond a moment to realize that it came from the owl. It took him a moment longer to recognize the voice and the look of bewilderment on ak'Taran's face was genuinely worth it. He smirked, as he fully turned to the owl, who had entered the room by now. “You're late”, he replied.
“Excuse me, did that owl just...”, Reo Quendan Gorbas began, as the owl's shape blurred. The transformation took only a second. In the blink of an eye, the owl was gone, replaced by a willowy figure covered from collar to toe in an elegant, form-fitting dress of black and red silk. She was an elven woman, her dark brown hair cut short, barely falling beneath her pointy ears. Her smooth skin had a light olive tan to it and the dark eyeshadow contrasted nicely with her light amber eyes. There was warmth within them and though she showed the sharp canine teeth that were common with her people, her smile was as charming as it was genuine. Though her kind was always ageless, she was genuinely as young as she seemed to be, only a few years older than Edmond, which made her notably younger than most within the room.
“Apologies”, she said in a casual tone, without bowing to the gathered Borbaradians. “I was listening though. Fascinating topic, I really didn't want to interrupt” Now, she gave Sulman a brief nod, the smallest gesture of deference possible and the only one he would get for her. The Tulamid replied with a deeper nod, almost a small bow. “Lady Azaril, as always you grace our council with your presence”, he welcomed her.
Azaril Crimsonleaf, Speaker of the Anvil Circle, was one of the few people whom Edmond had actually been looking forward to meet today. Most importantly, especially compared to people such as Urdo or ak'Taran, she was one of the few in this room whom he genuinely liked. It was unusual for an elf to follow the teachings of Borbarad, but when measured by their faith alone, Azaril would easily be Liscom's equal.
“Excuse me, is that...”, Reo spoke up again, before he shook his head. “You should have told me a bloody elf would come” Sulman raised an eyebrow, but Azaril was quick to walk past him. Stopping half a foot away from the merchant, she gave him her most stunning smile. “Lea Elf, to be precise, but don't let my ears distract you”, she told him, as he smile grew slightly thinner. “I hope they don't. I'd hate to distract you, Lord Gorbas” She placed a hand on his shoulder and the merchant tensed up.
“I...”, he stuttered. “You know what they say about elves. No offence, but I believe I should have been told. Should have made preparations” Azaril briefly glanced over her shoulder and as she turned away from Reo, her smile faded, replaced by a look of annoyance. Edmond shot her a grin and she reciprocated the gesture before she turned around again. “If this is a problem for you, we can always just leave. This is your home, after all”, she offered, as she looked from Sulman to ak'Taran. “I know a lovely inn in Upper Punin where the innkeep is willing to look the other way for a few extra ducats from my purse and a warm smile”
“Wha... hey!”, Reo protested. “I arranged for this meeting, elf! I'm part of this now!” Azaril turned around, her hands crossed behind her back as she walked around the table, stopping right next to Edmond, whom she gave a single, fiendish wink, as Sulman slowly nodded. “That is true, Maestro Gorbas”, he admitted. “You have heard a lot today and it would be a shame if you decide you no longer want our company. What should we do about that, Urdo?”
In an instant, Urdo had crossed the half a dozen feet between him and the merchant, while simultaneously drawing a dagger. “Let me change your mind”, he hissed, as he gave Reo a malicious grin. “Fatso” Edmond had to give it to the merchant for not even squealing at the sight of the drawn steel, despite the look of sudden terror on his face. “Wait... wait!”, he barked. “I... didn't mean to shoo you away, mylady. Forgive me for being confused, I just didn't expect an elf and an owl turning into an elf and... and that's all” His smile betrayed his nervousness and Edmond saw drops of sweat on his forehead. "Y... Yes?"
Finally, Sulman gave him a generous nod. “So be it”, he agreed in a forgiving tone. “Just don't forget who is in charge here, Maestro. If I say Lady Azaril stays, she stays. If someone arrives here and I welcome them and you didn't expect them, then you accept that, greet them with the same politeness you would reserve for a lifelong friend and swallow down your pride. I can assure you, it is entirely misplaced to begin with”
“Apologies, Azaril”, he continued as he turned back to the elven woman. Edmond attempted to stand up, but she placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back onto his seat. “Don't even think about it, Edmond”, she said in a jovial tone, as she walked past him. “You've earned that seat next to our leader” She stopped at the empty chair between Asmodeus and Murak, but before she sat down, she glared at Menchal ak'Taran. Briefly, her smile faded, replaced by a look of cold, calculating anger.
“And you should not treat him like this”, she warned him, before she pointed at Edmond. “This man stood by the side of Saint Liscom of Fasar when he tore a hole into this world, when he crushed the Master's prison and freed him from his unworthy confinement. He braved the Wasteland of Drakesfield, he battled our enemies and he was there when Borbarad, Lord over Seven Spheres, Master of Demons and Alveranian of Forbidden Knowledge, revealed himself to this world”
“Saint Liscom?”, Edmond asked, completely dumbfounded over the fearless way she was speaking to Menchal. Azaril chuckled sweetly. “It is a work in progress”, she admitted. “What Liscom did is nothing short of world-changing and I believe he deserves proper recognition for it” She glanced at ak'Taran, who replied with speechless anger. “Future generations will remember him as a saint, who gave his life and his immortal soul to shatter Borbarad's chains. They will remember Edmond as a great man, most-devoted to the cause, one without whom Liscom surely would have failed”, she intoned and there was a fiery passion within her voice. “Few among us can claim to have done the same”
Menchal slowly raised an eyebrow, before exchanging glances with his companions. “I don't have to listen to that, Crimsonleaf”, he growled and Azaril replied by nonchalantly shaking her head. “You don't have to, indeed”, she confirmed. “If a man of your standing is so easily offended, then it might be better if you stand up and leave. These people brought Borbarad back to our world without your help, so do you truly believe you are necessary for what is to come?”
Before Menchal could reply, Azaril cut him off. “Instead, I implore you, just think of your legacy, Magister ak'Taran”, she continued. “Would you rather be known as the man who helped with Borbarad's return, or as a thorn in the side of the faithful?” She followed with a smirk, which visibly infuriated the proud Southerner. “Be careful what you say, elf!”, he barked.
Decidedly unimpressed, Azaril leant against the back of her chair. “Please, a man of your cunning should know I am not easily intimidated. It might work for Sulman or Edmond, but the way I see it, you have yet to prove your worth to the one cause that matters”, she replied. “You think Edmond is beneath your status because his father was a goat herder and yours was a baron. That might be true in the old world, but not in the golden future Borbarad has promised to us” As she looked at him, Edmond saw that the look in her eyes was cold and cutting, but he couldn't contain a grin, knowing that her expression was solely reserved for the Uthari. “And you have yet to prove yourself to the Master"
For a moment, the mage and the elf glared at each other, before ak'Taran crossed his arms. “Fine!”, he sighed. “The Uthari will stay, for now. No one shall claim that we lack faith” He narrowed his eyes. “Especially not the knife-ear”, he spat. Azaril seemed to ignore the insult, as she briefly glanced at Edmond, to give him a wink. “Brave words”, she replied calmly. “We will see if you truly mean them”
“Braken could help...”, Asmodeus suddenly mumbled and one glance revealed that he hadn't even paid attention to the dispute between the elf and the Uthari. He smiled at Azaril with the same expression a grandfather reserved for his favourite granddaughter. “Azaril, child, when is he going to arrive?”, he asked. “I was hoping you'd travel together”
Though Azaril's smile grew only barely thinner, Edmond noticed the change within it. For a moment, the expression lost all of its genuine warmth and he noticed a confused look within her eyes. “Braken isn't here yet?”, she asked, as she looked around. “I... I assumed he was just not in the room right now, but...” She narrowed her eyes as she glanced at Sulman. “You're not kidding me, aren't you?”
The Tulamid shook his head. “Never would I dare, mylady”, he assured her. “But yes, we are still waiting for Braken” He gave Asmodeus a nod. “You're right about him. Braken is a zealot, but our current situation calls for his unusual perspective”, he admitted. “If there is a way to grant Borbarad a lasting vessel, no matter how dark or obscure the method may be, then Braken knows whom to talk to”
“That bornish madman... He's too dangerous to be involved”, Harun growled. “I heard he corresponds with Zadig of Volterach and Pardona of the Shakagra'e, gods know how he managed to make their acquaintance. Who says he hasn't started to worship their Nameless Demon instead of our master?” Azaril narrowed her eyes. “He has not”, she declared. “Braken von Shreign is unwavering in his faith. If he converses with slaves of the Nameless One, then solely to learn their secrets. Never would he betray us”
“Always liked Braken”, Urdo mumbled and coming from him, it was by no means a compliment. Truth be told, Edmond didn't fully trust the man either. Braken led the Windhag circle, in the remote coastal wilderness of the least densely populated province of the Middenrealm. Only madmen and criminals stumbled upon his hideout and the isolation hadn't been good for his mental health. There were true believers, whose faith was strong and good, people such as Liscom or Azaril. And then there were those whom Edmond had no problem with labelling as fanatics. Braken von Shreign belonged in that latter category. He would rather watch the world burn if it meant the death of all those who rejected the Master's teachings.
“I doubt it as well”, Sulman admitted. “Say what you want about Braken, he is nothing if not loyal. And usually on time...” He and Azaril looked at each other and Edmond saw the confidence in the elf's face slowly fading. In its stead, he spotted just a hint of doubt. “He should be here by now...”, she mumbled. “We met five weeks ago on the border to Andergast and he offered me to travel together. I declined, I had work to do in the north and I'm faster on my own, but he should have arrived here at least two weeks ago”
“He's unreliable then”, Menchal decided. “Harun is right, if Braken is in league with the Rat Child and his servants, then he cannot be trusted. Even speaking to them holds its dangers” This time, Edmond shook his head. “Which makes his disappearance all the worse”, the young mage stated. Briefly, ak'Taran narrowed his eyes. “What did I tell you about interrupting me, Meadows?”, he asked, just as Azaril shot him a glare. A moment later, he sighed. “I meant, go on, enlighten us with your northern wisdom”
Edmond ignored the mocking tone in his voice and cleared his throat. “Braken should be here by now, which means his disappearance can really only mean two things”, he explained. “Either he ran into trouble, which is unlikely for a mage of his powers, or you fear correctly and he actually betrayed us to the Cult of the Nameless One. I don't have to explain why this is bad, do I?”
“Any chance he just got delayed a bit?”, Asmodeus asked, though it was clear he didn't expect an answer to that. Menchal looked at Edmond for a moment, before he begrudgingly nodded. “That is concerning”, he admitted. “One way or the other, he is a dead man” He looked at Azaril. “When you met him, did he tell you where he would go? Any clues?”
The elf shook her head. “None”, she replied. “He told me he would head to Punin immediately” She paused for a second. “However... there was something else”, she mumbled. “He talked about one of his followers for quite some time and what he ordered her to do” She paused. “For quite some time by Braken's standards, I mean”, she added. “And for those who don't know him, he almost never does that. I doubt even Liscom truly knew how many people truly followed Braken's take on Borbarad's teachings”
“I remember that”, Edmond agreed. “Liscom always hated that about Braken. He went out of his way to keep even crucial aspects of his circle a secret. I know a few names, but nothing more. And he never spoke of his plans” He gave Azaril a careful look. Beyond the confident smile, he still spotted a hint of concern. “What did he tell you?”
“One of his followers, a woman. Braken spoke fondly of her. Seems he trusts her a great deal, means whatever she's doing for him, it's important”, she explained. “Her name is Alicent Bellet, but knowing Braken, she's probably going by another name right now. According to him, she went to the Rhodestone”
“The Church of Rondra is involved then?”, Asmodeus remarked. “This is getting intriguing... it's about the rumours, isn't it? Concerning the Sword of Swords?” Azaril shrugged, before she shook her head. “I can only guess”, she admitted. “But Dragosh of Sicklehome is not in a strong position, that much is for sure. He might not even be the rightful Sword of Swords for all we know”
“Or maybe that's just baseless gossip”, Harun growled. “Sounds like the stuff Braken would get involved in. If he sent an agent to the Rhodestone, it's to keep an eye on Sicklehome and his loyalists. Perhaps he even wants to sabotage the church” Sulman nodded briefly, before he rose from his seat. “Which would not be bad for us”, he admitted. “But this is precisely the type of plan he should have told us about”
“Unless he is planning on betraying us”, Menchal replied and Edmond swallowed a comment about the Southerner talking from experience. “It all seems a bit suspicious. Just as our self-appointed leader calls for a meeting of every important Borbaradian outside of Meridiana, Braken, the man who made Liscom look rational in his zeal, disappears without a trace. And right before that, he tells the elf about his plans? Am I the only one who smells a trap?”
“If you put it that way”, Urdo interjected, but Sulman was quick to cut off any further comment. “It might be”, he admitted. “But it is still the only lead we have. Braken has studied some of the most forbidden forms of magic. He converses with the most infamous scholars on the continent. If there is a way to restore the master's body, to give him a lasting vessel, then Braken either knows it or he knows someone who can help us. We have to find him and his agent at the Rhodestone is our best bet”
“Send me then”, Edmond spoke without even having to think on it. It was not that he particularly cared for Braken, he actually didn't even like the man, but he knew how important this was. “I am your best choice and you know it. I know the Rhodestone, I know how the people act around there, I can blend right in” He gulped and briefly locked eyes with Azaril, who gave him an approving nod.
“For once, I have to agree with Meadows”, Menchal admitted. “He can indeed blend right in with the dung farmers of the northern Middenrealm” He and Saya exchanged a grin, but his expression grew serious immediately afterwards. “Of course, I won't agree on sending him alone”, he added, as he stared right at Sulman. “You don't trust me, I don't trust you, al'Venish. I want my own agent on the case, working alongside your peasant”
“Whom did you think of?”, Sulman pressed through clenched teeth, just as Edmond narrowed his eyes. “Murak, of course”, Menchal confirmed his worst fear and the portly mage raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don't look at me like that. It's a simple task for a simple mind if even Meadows can do that. Just go to the Rhodestone, find Braken's agent and then you get to use your talent for petty cruelty” Murak frowned. "Do I get a say in this?", he asked and his cousin's mocking chuckle was all the answer he needed.
“And you think I'll just agree to that? Sending Edmond away with your cockroach to support him?”, Sulman asked, to which Menchal shook his head. “Oh, not at all”, he admitted. “You have demands, make them. I just want to have someone I trust on this mission. Give Meadows another one of your lackeys for all I care, if you think Murak is going to kill him or something like that”
“Another ally and Edmond will lead the group”, Sulman demanded. Surprisingly, Menchal nodded immediately. “Deal. Of course, your servant will be most suited for the task”, he agreed and though he didn't say it, Edmond just knew there was an insult hidden within it. “Let me guess, it's because I grew up among pig farmers, right?”, he asked and he regretted it the moment Menchal shot him a smirk. “I was going to say dung farmers, but yes”, he corrected him. “And because of your terrifyingly bad manners. You'll fit right in”
He smiled at Azaril though the elf wouldn't do him the favour to reciprocate the gesture. “See, I am working with Meadows”, he argued. “I fully agree that we have to find Braken, so I'm even sending one of my men to help” He looked back at Sulman. “And two of yours, I believe... Meadows, and...?”
Sulman nodded in return. “I believe that should be up to Edmond”, he offered and Edmond raised an eyebrow. “Whom can I choose?”, he asked, instinctively hoping for Azaril or Asmodeus. His hopes got crushed quickly, as Sulman looked at the two men standing to his left. “You worked well with Korobar in Drakesfield”, he claimed. “And this task sounds like Urdo's talents would serve you well. Would you two be up for it?”
“Always”, Urdo replied quickly, though Korobar had to think on it a little bit longer. “At least he tried to kill me only once”, the necromancer replied. “I will follow, if the boy wills it” He gave Edmond a long, stern look. “But you know I have my own way of doing this. I will help you well if you wish, but if you cannot handle my methods, perhaps you should choose Urdo instead”
[Take Korobar with you] [Take Urdo with you]