You swallow the last of your second mug of ale when Shyntar enters the room. You watch him stand at the base of the wooden stairs, his dark gaze sweeping the oblivious people.
You glance at Ryan, wondering how much power he truly possesses and how much is just tricks. You lean back in your chair as he lifts his eyes and meets your gaze.
"Very powerful, undead one." He says proudly before lowering his gaze to the table once more. "Our long lost third has returned, evidently." He says.
You allow your eyes to fall upon Shyntar as he steps away from the stairs and moves toward you. His thick black cloak floats behind him like a dark angel's wings.
His steps are slow and purposeful, light and easy. You notice how he seems to float toward you, his cloak drifting back with every third step, revealing the taunting glint of metal.
Even before Shyntar reaches you, you know who he is. A slow smile touches your lips as you understand the importance of your decision.
"Are we prepared to leave?" Shyntar asks, his voice smooth as silk and just as cool.
"What's the hurry?" You ask, content to bide your time. Assuming your guess is correct, you allow your smile to broaden.
"Tell me, Bloome, what you intend to do here?" Shyntar asks as he slides into the seat between you and Ryan.
You wave the maiden over and she places a fresh mug of ale before you. "Drink." You say as you swallow. "And talk."
"About?" Shyntar asks as he catches the girl's eye. You are silently impressed at the haste with which she fetches his ale.
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