It was tiring waiting that long. Strephan Maurer ponderously set his chin in his hands on another tired day. Progress was stilted. The land remained clutched in his elegant grasp, the fools in the towns wary but feeling their trivial safety. A hiss of dismissal poured from his pursed lips. And yet they stood in his way. His fingers tapped against his pale skin, feeling the beat through his jaw and gleaming teeth. Tatyana was still there. And there was no easy way to collect her with elegance. The town needed to remain, shepherds need their sheep. And that crazed Inquisitor wouldn’t simply relinquish the town. And even more still were that would be group of hunters, stomping through the forest like a frightened boar. Their lack of subtlety was adorable, but could prove troublesome. So perhaps… Yes.
Standing to his full height, he held out a hand as parchment and quill traveled loyally to his grip caught in invisible eddies. Across the room Rahadin, clad in black fur with his deep skin eyed his lord carefully, but didn’t speak. The rapid scratching of the feather on paper wasn’t something he’d disturb. Minutes later as the flurry of strokes ended and the wax seal was set to envelope, he finally felt the space to clear his throat subtly from the edge of the candlelit room. Maurer held the envelope out, looking his loyal servant in the eye. “Deliver this to Inghild.” he said in meticulous deep words. His face was placid for but a moment more, his mouth splitting into a sharp humorless grin. “It’s time we followed through on our plans.”