Thursday June 9th, 2016
8:11 am (3 7/8 hours of sleep)
Why must one be woken? Why must one be roused?
Alarms rose within my head. The lord of the house had been slain and a new governor was to be appointed. Tommy Twelve Mist Toes was livid with translucent excitement. It had been far too long since Vilacuddra had been to work in the outlying provinces. Slightly aroused and not the least bit confused, I found information fleeting and not at all helpful.
Taken by masters of unseen force, Pellin felt her fate was not entirely her own. Deadly pantomimes had found everything there was to know about her cart's inner workings. Not one but two officers had been missing of late.
Had it really taken me this long to realize the game that was afoot? What kinds of people could you muster these days? Loyal people of good standing willing to go to the grave with your secrets? How many men had claimed as such? Why were the killings persisting?
No answers came as I called out for a friend in the night. What kinds of people was I making alligences with?
Terry Bufont had the scuttling wariness and beady eyes of a crayfish. He would definitely be one of the first to betray me.
Eva Langorum was a conniving young thing. Though how much physical torture she would be able to withstand, I do not know. Not much, is my assumption.
The Templetons had several court wizards at their disposal. This would give them the chance of holding out well after the riots had started. Though it was just a matter of time until they too were captured or executed.
Tommy Treakleman was an exceptional gambler and quite the spirited liar. He had the greatest chance of escape from the rebellion's trappings. He would be the man I would choose to bring my secret forward unto a new world.
The house gnomes of Prelen Prix't would prove difficult to ignore. However, some salt and a good eye for change could bring any short mythical creatures down.
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