Reflection

[Cirath]

He had not been in the city in the better part of two months, ever sense his last meeting with Entreri, but it was not a bout of homesickness that brought Cirath back to Calimport this time. There were wheels to set in motion, and this was a fine place to start.

The trip south had given him a great deal of time to think about recent events and his place in them. Over the past few months a notion had been gnawing at the back of his mind, and now it was slowly beginning to crystallize. He had left Calimport in a rage some years ago to hunt down the man who had slighted him so. At the time he had been full of fury over the insult done to him and perhaps a bit mad from the poison-induced fever that gripped him those first few days.

It was quite some time before Cirath caught up with the man-turned-elf. He had taken a contract here and there in exchange for information, which delayed him further, and as the months passed his anger cooled. When finally he stood within reach of the drow who had dared so much, he no longer seemed worth killing.

Of course, by that time Nilan was not the same man he had met in the room of a shabby little inn all those nights ago. Probably a fitting thing, since he no longer wore the same face. To be sure, he still hated the elf, but somewhere along the way it had become more a game to pass the days than a true hunt.

The came the dragon and the wizard, and the notion was born. The Calimshite didn’t realise it himself at first. He simply moved as his whims took him, but in the back of his mind it grew.

First, the dragon enlisted his services. She sent him fetching after artifacts, hunting wizards, and carrying letters like a common street urchin. All the while she flaunted her arrogance while blundering in the shadows. The coin was good, but it wasn’t about the gold, hadn’t been for years.

Still it grew.

Then came the offer from Entreri. The man promised gold, he promised stature, he promised power. Always promised, but before he could deliver there was always one more task he needed done. With each day his arrogance grew and his concern and respect dwindled.

It began to take shape.

And so Cirath decided once more that if things were to be done through him, they would be done his way. The assassin began to take a hand in events without orders or requests for him to do so. It was no longer time to help others see to their own interests. One piece of the puzzle was missing, however. One last thing had to be done before his plans could be made. So he searched.

And then it was clear.

He knew what he would do. He knew how it must begin. And now that he had found that last piece on an old stone bridge deep in the woods, he could take action. And so, he was back home once more.

Cirath stood only a few short blocks from the old, decrepit-looking warehouse that housed Entreri’s guild, waiting. It wasn’t long before he saw what he was looking for – a familiar face. He didn’t know the boy’s name, didn’t care to know it, but it was the same face that he had seen not all that long ago when Entreri had sent the boy away to confer with Cirath alone.

The assassin stole up behind the young guild member, clamped a strong hand over his mouth, and dragged the boy into a small, deserted alley.

“You know my face.” It was not a question. The younger man only nodded, fear creeping into his eyes. Cirath fished into his pouch and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.

“Take this to Artemis, and be sure he knows who sent it,” the older rogue said, thrusting the letter into the boy’s hands. The guild member nodded again, a bit more enthusiastically, as he realized that he was not going to be killed, then turned and dashed out of the alley and towards the warehouse once Cirath released him.

Cirath slipped back out of the alley and made his way north, out of the city. Entreri would not be pleased when he read that, and the assassin had better things to do than kill the thugs the guildmaster would undoubtedly send to fetch him.

On his way through the streets, he smilled ever so slightly as he remembered the words of the letter:

What you have gained in power you have lost in fear. I will help you find it again soon, when I come to collect my fee.