"That dwarf treated murder - treated life itself - like a game, like a joke. By all rights, I should have taken his head," Gauvik muttered. "Yet I stood by, perfectly willing to let him spill the blood of living, breathing beings before my eyes, simply because I didn't know them, didn't find them honorable. How then can I find myself honorable, I ask you? That man may have been evil, perhaps; it didn't make him wrong."
Lord Ketarn's party marched through the hall, attracting what few eyes were still awake. At least a few of them knew Ketarn - some as the Red Lord, some as He of the Isles of Blood, some simply by the name of Castle Carmine - and knew enough about him to keep their distance. Ketarn knew he was not the sort few people would willingly associate with... yet, somehow, his library rarely went a month without visitors. The hypocrisy of it all was enough to keep Ketarn amused for quite a while; when they showed up at his doors, asking politely to peruse his tomes, if it's not a problem, that is... that was when he saw their true faces.
Adela Wystheart sidled closer, a wave of her hand and a crackle of power enveloping the pair in an aura of silence. To others around them, their voices were little more than hushed whispers.
"What of the dwarf, my lord?" she asked, pointing without moving towards Birodor across the hall. "He could be useful."
"...Could. He could also rain destruction down upon us all when he chooses to lop off the wrong head," Ketarn said after some thought. "Keeping a man like him in my employ is a surefire way to create enemies I don't need. For the moment though, he's simply a nuisance. Keep an eye on him, so we can see which way he chooses to turn."
Edited by Chronicler of Ko-Koro, Nov 07 2011 - 07:28 PM.