Brand
10-24-14, 11:08 AM
*Closed to Lye (And Elthas, if certain events happen.)
Brand read over the response to a letter he had sent out but a few days before. He sighed.
"The man planted bombs on my messenger. Bombs of all things... Damn, that's the sixth one this month!" The previous five had fallen to something or another throughout the month, and only this one was destined to succeed, and he'd either plastered the man with a bomb pack, or woven spells around him as tight as a hangman's noose. The homunculus looked at the paper once more, before crumpling it up, and throwing it across the room and into the fireplace. The paper was consumed by the flame within seconds.
Brand had invited the master of assassins to dinner. He had rather literally invited death into his office. Lichensith Ulroke was coming out to this decrepit place to arrange business between the two groups, Trading Company and Crimson Hand.
"Sir, you should probably get ready for the meeting." A voice said from the doorway. Brand looked up to see the face of his secretary, and he nodded. The golem stood, his frame scraping at his joints as he did so.
"Thank you. And Sira, please, do go home. I don't want anyone getting hurt if things go foul. " Brand said, turning around to go through a door behind him, leading down a long hallway to his personal chambers. The mage straightened his back as he walked, and then went through another door, to end up in a richly furnished room.
"Hmph. Now, to figure out what to wear. Oh yes. Like it'd matter. Probably going to end up dead or dying, if things go the way they can with the Crimson Hand." Brand grumbled to himself, raising a hand absently to mentally flick his wardrobe door open. Within it was a strange assortment of garments, from a vinyl catsuit to a strangely realistic costume that seemed to represent a reptile that was incredibly tall, yet had miniscule arms. The golem looked them over with a thoughtless flick of his eyes and settled on a simple pair of black slacks, and an amber shirt, matching in color with his eyes. He walked over, grabbing them, and rather quickly changed into them, and then nodded to himself.
"And when shall blood flow from the wounds of the earth? In but days, for that, is when I shall die, good lord." He murmured, looking out the single window of his chambers to gaze unto the watelands that formed this desolate place.
Brand walked to his door, pulling it open, and striding down the hallway. He took a left at a set of double doors and pulled them open, revealing a great hall, with a massive fireplace, and a single long table running down the length of it. He cleared his throat.
"Lichensith Ulroke! Please, come in, if you are present!" Brand shouted in his booming voice, the sound echoing around the room. The homunculus nodded, and grinned.
Brand read over the response to a letter he had sent out but a few days before. He sighed.
"The man planted bombs on my messenger. Bombs of all things... Damn, that's the sixth one this month!" The previous five had fallen to something or another throughout the month, and only this one was destined to succeed, and he'd either plastered the man with a bomb pack, or woven spells around him as tight as a hangman's noose. The homunculus looked at the paper once more, before crumpling it up, and throwing it across the room and into the fireplace. The paper was consumed by the flame within seconds.
Brand had invited the master of assassins to dinner. He had rather literally invited death into his office. Lichensith Ulroke was coming out to this decrepit place to arrange business between the two groups, Trading Company and Crimson Hand.
"Sir, you should probably get ready for the meeting." A voice said from the doorway. Brand looked up to see the face of his secretary, and he nodded. The golem stood, his frame scraping at his joints as he did so.
"Thank you. And Sira, please, do go home. I don't want anyone getting hurt if things go foul. " Brand said, turning around to go through a door behind him, leading down a long hallway to his personal chambers. The mage straightened his back as he walked, and then went through another door, to end up in a richly furnished room.
"Hmph. Now, to figure out what to wear. Oh yes. Like it'd matter. Probably going to end up dead or dying, if things go the way they can with the Crimson Hand." Brand grumbled to himself, raising a hand absently to mentally flick his wardrobe door open. Within it was a strange assortment of garments, from a vinyl catsuit to a strangely realistic costume that seemed to represent a reptile that was incredibly tall, yet had miniscule arms. The golem looked them over with a thoughtless flick of his eyes and settled on a simple pair of black slacks, and an amber shirt, matching in color with his eyes. He walked over, grabbing them, and rather quickly changed into them, and then nodded to himself.
"And when shall blood flow from the wounds of the earth? In but days, for that, is when I shall die, good lord." He murmured, looking out the single window of his chambers to gaze unto the watelands that formed this desolate place.
Brand walked to his door, pulling it open, and striding down the hallway. He took a left at a set of double doors and pulled them open, revealing a great hall, with a massive fireplace, and a single long table running down the length of it. He cleared his throat.
"Lichensith Ulroke! Please, come in, if you are present!" Brand shouted in his booming voice, the sound echoing around the room. The homunculus nodded, and grinned.