Chapter 55: Bureaucratic Bullshit
***Mark Wyrd***
“Say that again,” Father said, his voice crashing down on Mark and forcing him to his knees.
Frederick Wyrd wore a vibrant blue silk robe concealing his Torso Relic, as well as arm-length black leather gloves, concealing his Rings.
The only thing Mark saw on top of his head was a circlet with a drop of blood-colored gemstone in the center, reminding him of the one he’d lost in the swamps of the 4th floor.
This one was likely far more powerful.
The lord of the Wyrd house could be fully armed for battle, and no one would ever know until they exploded in a shower of viscera.
In his gloved hand, Father was twirling an unfamiliar rod and tapping it on his knee unconsciously. It was an oddly ornate bone rod seemingly cut from a femur, about a foot and a half in length with ornate gold caps with gem inlay.
Mark had never seen in before in his life, and that made him nervous.
“The destruction of Oilton was perpetrated by a Party that serves the church of Granesh.” Mark lied, keeping his face downturned.