The halfling tossed open the fur flap of the tent, ducking under and entering the dimly lit canopy. At the far end, a man stood behind a heavy table, laid with maps and pieces. He did not look up as she entered.
“I recovered it.”
The man’s gaze lifted to regard Lidda, but he did not say anything. He had rather a nice face, when it wasn’t hidden under the helmet. Strong, angular. A good jawline to it. The wizard tapped her staff twice, and two figures entered, carrying a large wooden trunk between them. They moved quickly to the desk, deposited the trunk in front of it, then scurried away again.
Still silent, the man crossed to the front of his desk, lifting the lid of the trunk. From within, a pale silver light played on his face as he regarded the contents. He stood motionless for a few moments, before shutting the trunk lid again.
“You are as good as your word,” he said finally. His voice was flat and monotone, but it demanded attention.
Lidda flashed a smile. “Always.”
“I trust The Adventurers were not a problem.”
“No. Unlike some people, I can keep a lid on my movements.”
A smile played at the corner of the man’s mouth. He opened the trunk once more, gazing at its contents.
“Well done. We shall wait just a little longer,” he said, reaching into the trunk and removing a shining silver breastplate, “see how the board might change.”
He looked up, regarding the wizard with a fresh glint in his eyes.
“Then we march.”