The warlock stood back from the edge of the forest. Partially behind a tree, he hid as he looked out at the clearing beyond the tree line. He was motionless as he waited and watched.
Across the clearing, outside of the house at the other side, two children were playing. Banagan couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the tones and the laughter carried enough that he knew that they were playing.
“Why are you doing this?”
Banagan looked down at the imp beside him. Voltuk was staring at the warlock, waiting as patiently as an imp might for an answer to his question.
“Do what?” Banagan asked in reply, looking back at the house across the way.
“Just go and say hi. Tell them you’re back.”
“I can’t do...
The Slaughtered Lamb was quiet. There were a couple of tables that were occupied, but those people spoke in hushed tones with each other. One table near the front was occupied by two individuals, both of whom were deep in a whispered conversation.
On the one side sat a person in brown robes and mask which hid his features and muffled his voice. Across from him sat a woman dressed in robes of purple and gold with a hood that was pulled low to help conceal her face from anyone not directly in front of her. On the table was a bottle of noir and two glasses, but neither person seemed interested in drinking from it.
“Thank you for meeting me here,” the man said.
“Its not my preferred location for a meeting, but it does have its...