It wasn’t long before the morning ended and the tall would-be barista brought Storm his tab. This could only mean that Shinsou had entered the portal within the Citadel; the wizard had wished not to labor over the thing and not sit too long in the ethereal. Finishing the now-cold last few sips in the small ceramic cup before him, the adventurer delicately laid the empty drink upon the hard surface. The room was still otherwise nearly empty, save a few patrons that pretended to read as they peered at the notorious magician over the tops of their books. By the side of the empty drink, three gold crowns stacked neatly; it would easily double the waiter’s daily haul. Standing quickly, another toothy smile preceded Storm’s farewell.

“Thank you for your time and attention. I appreciate your patience and discretion.”

Shaking hands with the waiter, he enjoyed the surprised and obviously confused demeanor of the attendant. The man was no less than fifty, yet remained nervous around the villain. He smiled in a way that a man does while backing away and trying to pacify a wild dog; these coins could very well be some form of test. Storm’s reputation had a way of growing far and beyond the reality of the situation.

Relax, JEEVES, I’m not going to get your blood on my f*cking linen shirt. Deep breaths, old boy. Deep breaths.

Without another word, Storm excused himself from the café, stopping by the restroom to relieve himself before shuffling to the center hall and it’s glowing portal. The distinct lavender glow, electric hum and scent of burned formaldehyde was unmistakable from around the corner; human-made portals were all the same. He grinned at himself, decades into the whole charade, he still felt the butterflies grow and turn in his stomach. Behind that door waited a friend; a man he knew and respected and once trusted deeply. He knew that true death could not lie behind the door, as the monks of Ai’Bron could heal dragons, rendering the effort to resurrect a simple mortal a pittance.

Mortal? Is that what I am? Seems unlikely at this point. Maybe a question for another day. No hesitation now; the injuries will hurt but you’ll be fine, and this is the first domino to topple Radasanth.

One more deep breath, and the wizard double checked his appearance before stepping through the portal. His vest and jacket buttons were lined up perfectly, cuff links meticulously symmetric. His hair pulled back taut against his head, a little more gray every day but the hair unquestionably healthy, thick and charming. His shoes gleamed from both their polished lacquered tops and gleaming metal bottoms. The daggers tucked neatly in their sheathes behind his hip bones, out of sight and comfortably positioned on either side of his glutes.

Closing his fists, his knuckled popped loudly at his hips, fingers firing open and testing a pulse of energy below him. Upon command, he floated effortlessly an inch above the ground; his powers were perfectly responsive and ready.

Ready. Perfect.

With a final breath, he lowered himself and stepped through the portal.

~~~~~~~


The long, towering hallway was homage to Coronian Empirical Architecture. Thick, ivory columns fell in even rows, the spacing perfect beneath the towering ceiling and the flat floors. Looking about him, the long amphitheater opened before him, brightly lit from suspended lanterns that burned of deep pots of oil, almost entirely odorless. The only scent present was his aftershave and a mild hint of dust; his metal soles clacking loudly and echoing in the grand, empty place. Perhaps one hundred yards before him, the unmistakable soldier.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long…” Veritas bellowed, sensing the echo behind his words. Long sentences would be lost in the round of returning words, bouncing messages and conflating the overall note. “Too much coffee in the shop.”

He marched forward deliberately, his feet an arrow towards Vaan Osiris. The spectacular grin spread across his face, pulsing wider with each thundering footfall. His plan to disarm the inevitable attacker would begin, and there was little Shinsou could do to stop him. As he moved ahead, he could speak a bit more at length, as the echo fell a bit and his message became direct.

“Happy to be here now, I suppose. Hope you’re planning on being gentle; I’m not sure those bald bastard monks will take care of me after what I just did to their men’s room.”

That should catch him off guard. Let’s see that stoicism waver a bit.