I generally prefer to avoid bodyguards. It's challenging to find soone more alert to danger than Opal, and besides, I don't consider myself significant enough to pose a threat. Not to ntion, I find the whole idea of bodyguards quite deaning.
However, my situation is unique. I wasn't born into the Organization or the House of Vorgan. Actually, I wasn't even born a citizen; I'm a human amongst non-humans. This stark difference can account for the divergence in our perceptions.
So, observe as I did. I noticed the Baku bustling around, not unlike the small mammals they are nad after, absorbed in their mundane activities picking fruits, selecting fabrics, placing bets, rushing to work, and indirectly serving my purposes.
Observe the Fenxera and the Chirix, posing as nobles yet leading middle-class lives, dealing in fabrics or fruits, buying mind-altering substances, or haggling with the local pawnbroker all while indirectly providing for . Then there are the genuine nobles, parading around like Serevia in the spring, tossing pennies to the poor, ordering their servants to buy fine wines and exotic mind-altering substances, and, directly or indirectly, contributing to my sustenance.
It's a wonder I manage to maintain a slim figure.
As I strolled past them, extracting every possible benefit, none paid any special attention. And that's just how I prefer it.
My journey from my apartnt to the office was brief, but sufficient for to grasp the day's neighborhood dynamics. Nothing noteworthy occurred that day, giving no inkling of the events that had already begun to unfold. As I rember, I was early to the office that day. Though the Vorgan operates around the clock, the real hustle and bustle mostly happens after dark, which ans a late start; I rarely see my office before midday. That day, I reached the office prior to my assistant, placed my cloak on the hanger, leaned my sword against the wall, and settled at my desk to review any potential correspondence.
A single piece of expensive parchnt lay in the middle of my desk; neatly inscribed on it was, "V. Dravos, Baronet." Turning it over, I noticed the Dragonshead seal.
Before opening it, I hesitated, sowhat fearful of its contents. I finally broke the seal before Opal could badger about it.
Baronet,
It would bring imnse pleasure to see you once more. It could also turn out to be profitable for you. If you require help with transport, you may consult Baron-Eldran D'erics at the House of the Dragon.
Arrive today between the twelfth and tenth hours, and I will make ti to et you imdiately.
Yours sincerely,
Drevolan D'Lira
P.S.: You previously ntioned a preference for a formal invitation over our last thod of asking for your assistance; I trust this is more agreeable D.
Setting the letter down, I found myself deep in thought.
As always with Drevolan, I was unsure how to interpret his intentions. He nad his residence Nocturne Castle, which could be either an extravagant show of grandeur or an accurate depiction of his power. His uniqueness, or peculiarity, stemd from his status as an Imperion, a Dragonlord, studying Terran Sorcery. It either indicated an unusual attitude towards humans or a sheer contempt for us, demonstrated by his casual mastery of our arcane skills. His "last thod" was offensive enough to have almost led us to a deadly confrontation. Was this reference a taunt or a peace offering? In any case, I never doubted for a mont that I would accept his invitation.
"We're off to Nocturne Castle, Opal."
"I can hardly contain my excitent, Boss. When?"
I checked the Imperial Orb through our psychic connection. It was just shy of noon.
"Imdiately," I inford him.
I fastened my sword back on, gaining little confidence from its weight on my side and the rhythmic knock of the sheath against my leg.
When my assistant, Piers, arrived, he seed shocked to see already there. I said, "I need to run an errand. If I don't return, hold Drevolan from the Dragon House responsible. Take care."
Exiting the office, I found myself on the roadthe initial strides marking the start of a journey which would eventually lead to conflict and peril. To reduce physical exertion, I hired a carriage. Though I paid the driver little heed, I tipped him generously. This might reveal sothing about my character.
The Dragon House faces the Imperial Palace, positioned slightly to the northwest, and is distinguished by a forty-foot marble statue of Kyran the Conqueror, holding his mighty sword with one hand, its tip pointing towards the Terran. The sight always leaves weary. Kyran's face, from a low vantage point, is devoid of any discernible emotion. A series of seventeen steps leads to the main entrance, which was wide open when I arrived, sowhat footsore, around noon.
Upon entering the Dragon House, you find yourself in the Great Hall. An enormous, echo-filled chamber adorned with murals of violent scenes, sparse windows that hardly admit any sunlight, and a marble floor. A single wide staircase starts in the center of the Hall, disappearing into an unseen upper level. Tiny hanging lamps adorn the high ceiling, barely illuminating the space but strangely enough, the murals are clearly visible, which raises the question of the source of light.
The place wasn't to my liking.
Being amidst so many Dragonlords reminded of my arrest after my forr boss's demisean experience I didn't particularly enjoy. They were all standing in groups, weapons at their sides. Their chatter echoed around the vast hall, amplifying the noise. Grey bunting draped here and there suggested a recent death. I stood, with Opal on my shoulder, seemingly unnoticed for a good whileperhaps half a minute. Then, I noticed a pair of guards on either side of the entrance, who were glaring at with unmistakable hostility. This actually comforted , as I prefer being despised over being ignored.
Opting to approach the man over the woman, mainly due to the latter's towering height that would have awkwardly put my gaze at her chest level, I strutted forward. Like many creatures, Dragonlords can detect fear. The guard looked down at (my eyes aligned with his collarbone) and consciously avoided eye contact with Opal. He might have assud I'd derive satisfaction from seeing him unnerved by the creature on my shoulder, and he wasn't wrong. I said, "I am here to see Baron Eldran."
The Dragonlord swallowed, set his jaw, and queried, "Who are you?"
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