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Hinckley, renowned thief and spy extraordinaire, meets with a shadowy figure in a dark corner. However, he has unknowingly been followed.
"Ahh, Hinckley. There you are. I was beginning to think I'd be stuck in this den of stinking drunks all night..."
"My apologies, sire. I was delayed on the road from Albion. There were soldiers, and-"
"No matter. Here is the map you were told of."
"Heed my words carefully, thief: you are to follow this and my written instructions to 't', otherwise your life will be forfeit. Either by myself, or the guardian who keeps safe the prize I seek."
"Yes, milord."
"Now, I trust your compensation has been adequate?"
"Indeed it has, milord."
"You have one fortnight to accomplish the task, or else. Do. Not. Disappoint me."
Just outside, Sharra Foxpaw and Dornir Threeleaves listen to the crytpic conversation.
"Interesting. What do you think the halfling thief is after, Sharra?"
"I have no idea, Dornir. However, I have a hunch that we must get to this 'prize' before he does at all costs. The fate of all Historica may well hang in the balance..."
Stay tuned for Chapter 3!
C&C welcome, as always.
