The city of Gurdock, crossroads of the east, filthy, soiled jewel of the Terrosian Empire, churned away on its foundations, a blight on the otherwise beautiful coast of a breathtaking land.
In a back room of a seaside tavern, a grizzled old man, dressed in expensive but worn raiment, spoke in hushed tones over glasses of brandy with a young man who looked far too serious for his years.
“Mizraith,”, the old man said, “my people tell me that something has gone wrong with the two we sent west to Torryn.”
Mizraith sipped his brandy but did not interrupt.
“The Duke there is one of ours, an Officer of high quality and of great potential. He sent us a very distressing missive, and we sent him two Field Agents whose loyalty and abilities are beyond reproach.”
The younger gentleman looked at his elder. “They have betrayed us?”
“Goodness no, Mizraith!” gasped the other. “But the report I received is that they have begun to behave…. erratically. They would never willingly betray us, but obviously something has happened to them that has affected their minds. My contact in the thieves’ guild there stated that they didn’t seem to recall him, even though they worked with him before he was sent to infiltrate that guild. He hasn’t let on that he noticed, mind you, but he definitely thought it off.”
Mizraith drained the rest of his glass in a single swallow. That was definitely off. From what he knew of recent goings on, all of the Masters and Officers in the Brotherhood had their eyes west, looking to Torryn. This mission obviously had something to do with this.
“The Masters are concerned, lad. We can’t have this go bad!”
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Mizraith, they want me to send someone else. Someone to look after Enris and Thuron and put them back on task. And maybe find out what happened to them.”
“Why me, sir?” asked Mizraith, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
“You’re a loyal man, from a good family, and you’ve got great potential in the Arts, or so I’m told. This would be a fine way for you to cut your teeth as a Field Agent in a critical area for the Brotherhood, and get some experience. It’ll do ya well down the road. The Masters have their eye on you, lad. Do this well and you will receive their favor, maybe even a promotion!”
Mizraith didn’t smile at this the way most men his age, usually full of enthusiasm and ambition, would have smiled. Instead he looked at his elder, his expression serious and grim, but determined. “I will not fail.”
The old man nodded. “Good. Leave at once.”
Mizraith placed a gold coin on the table and walked out the door. He had a long ride ahead of him, and the sun was in his eyes.
A map of Torryn province
