“Observation is perhaps the most underrated of a warrior’s tools. Many a great swordsman has been ambushed into an early grave, and many an amateur one lived a long life thanks to a sharp eye and a keen ear.”
Blademaster Kallar addressing students at the Orian School
The hooded figure darted quickly back down the darkened alley, heart pounding in their chest. Moving quickly through Karan Taul’s deserted streets, they made their way back to their den, in under the detritus of the doorway and into the underground darkness. Satisfied that they were safe, they unstoppered a glass bottle, pouring its contents into a wide dish and kneeling in front of it. The water glinted in the dim light.
“He saw me, master! The smuggler. This time I’m sure of it,” the figure whispered.
The liquid began to tremble and ripple. “Why do you disturb me?!”
“He…he saw me! I must lay low a while, master, I—”
“You will do no such thing!”
“But master!”
“You will bring me what I seek. No more delays! My patience grows thin – if you cannot succeed in this modest task then I shall find someone who can. Do not contact me again unless it is to report your victory!”
“Y-yes, master. Of course, master.”
“What have you learned since last we spoke?”
“He is…he is careful, master. He never shows it where I might see. Are you certain he has it?”
“Do not question me!”
“I’m sorry, master! I meant no disrespect!”
“You mean to tell me, then, that you have made no progress?”
The figure stammered.
“You mean to tell me I have entrusted this task to a fool?“
“No, master! No! You chose well! I—” The figure trailed off as thin tendrils of water slithered out from the dish and along the floor towards them. The figure gulped.
“I have a plan.”
