Chapter B4C58 - Once Spilled, Never Forgotten
Nostas Jorlin strode through the streets of Kenmor like an avenging angel. Around him, the highest level Soldiers of his House were arrayed, and he dove into the depravity of the city every day, hunting. Yet despite his best efforts, the trail of the Necromancer was infuriatingly cold.
Kenmor had been turned upside down twice over with no result, so now it was time to start rattling the cages he hadn’t been allowed to touch up to this point.
At the head of his column, Nostas strode, barely aware of the public scattering out of his way, diving back into their homes or pressing themselves against the buildings lining the street. He was focused entirely on his purpose, the magnificent, multi-story building in the centre of the Arcanist district.
Master Willhem’s Arcanist Emporium.
Faces paled as he moved directly to the famed store, dozens of armoured men and women in his wake. When he reached the door, he was met by an attendant who had clearly seen them coming.
“Welcome, my Lord,” she said, bowing deeply at the waist. “How may we serve you today?”
She wore a crisp, well-tailored uniform, as did all the store attendants at Willhem’s. Professional to the last, she didn’t even appear all that afraid—at least, to someone less observant than a Lord, she didn’t. The slight trembling of her hands, the ever so slightly pale complexion of her face. She was afraid, as she should be.
“I have come to conduct an inspection of the premises and question any and all persons associated with this establishment,” he announced. The Lord held a hand to the side, and a rolled piece of parchment was placed there by a nearby Soldier. Nostas held it out to the attendant. “Our writ, signed by the Duke.”
The attendant took it, trying to maintain her calm.