Keptolo shows the way
Keptolo shows the way. Feed the vanity of your mistress, and all her treasures shall be yours. Be careful whom you offend, and keep an expendable companion nearby to hold culpable for your crimes. Gossip can be as deadly as venom on an assassin’s blade. Use the poison of words to destroy your rivals, that your may claim for yourself all they once presumed was theirs.
Izil’daerryn made sure the curtains were drawn and the fire was burning in the fireplace and double-checked that the door to his room was locked. Everyone should be out, doing their business, and after checking that there was no magical interference or other disturbances, he was finally ready to begin. He took a paper bag which had been resting on his bed. He had bought it a week or so ago and paid it from his own pocket. The bag bore the logo of the best spidersilk vendor -Spiderbanes, of course- in city. When he let his fingers run on the smooth surface of the beautiful scarf of color of the brightest, deepest amber, he didn’t think about the amount of gold he had had to pay for it. To him, it barely made any difference into his finances, but to someone else, like a lowly soldier working in Yanta Menothar, it could have almost been the amount worth of more than two years’ salary.
“Show me the way, o great consort. Let the lies of my tongue find their marks, killing my enemies slowly and painfully, them not knowing until it is too late. Keep my skin as youthful as yours, your beauty everlasting, so the vain women will embrace me instead of their husbands. “ He bowed politely, as only proper when addressing a higher power, holding the scarf elegantly in the air with his both hands, standing in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled briskly, like it would have been giggling to him in delight.
“Please, accept my humble offering.” Izil’daerryn prayed and tossed the scarf ceremoniously into the fire. It lit up in high flames and then, it was suddenly gone, swallowed by the hungry blaze. Spidersilk burned in a blink of an eye, leaving nothing but ashes behind. For a while he watched the flames dance and pondered to himself if Keptolo had heard his prayer. At least -he was sure- the Eager Consort would be delighted about the scarf. It had been of excellent quality, after all.
Izil’daerryn made sure the curtains were drawn and the fire was burning in the fireplace and double-checked that the door to his room was locked. Everyone should be out, doing their business, and after checking that there was no magical interference or other disturbances, he was finally ready to begin. He took a paper bag which had been resting on his bed. He had bought it a week or so ago and paid it from his own pocket. The bag bore the logo of the best spidersilk vendor -Spiderbanes, of course- in city. When he let his fingers run on the smooth surface of the beautiful scarf of color of the brightest, deepest amber, he didn’t think about the amount of gold he had had to pay for it. To him, it barely made any difference into his finances, but to someone else, like a lowly soldier working in Yanta Menothar, it could have almost been the amount worth of more than two years’ salary.
“Show me the way, o great consort. Let the lies of my tongue find their marks, killing my enemies slowly and painfully, them not knowing until it is too late. Keep my skin as youthful as yours, your beauty everlasting, so the vain women will embrace me instead of their husbands. “ He bowed politely, as only proper when addressing a higher power, holding the scarf elegantly in the air with his both hands, standing in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled briskly, like it would have been giggling to him in delight.
“Please, accept my humble offering.” Izil’daerryn prayed and tossed the scarf ceremoniously into the fire. It lit up in high flames and then, it was suddenly gone, swallowed by the hungry blaze. Spidersilk burned in a blink of an eye, leaving nothing but ashes behind. For a while he watched the flames dance and pondered to himself if Keptolo had heard his prayer. At least -he was sure- the Eager Consort would be delighted about the scarf. It had been of excellent quality, after all.
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