Oligarch Morinth was monitoring the bay firefight when Perius Yurlay stepped over and whispered, “A moment, your excellency.”
Morinth, frustrated that it was taking longer than it should to eliminate a few pitiful scavengers on the beach, harshly brushed his servant aside and continued to watch the monitors.
Nonetheless determined, Yurlay cleared his throat and the Oligarch swung around ready to pummel the man when he cried out, “Someone to see you, m’Lord!”
Morinth’s eyes met Yurlay’s gaze and he immediately understood the severity of the situation.
General Ostergard and a few others turned to witness the interaction, but Morinth pointed at the screens and demanded, “Finish this quickly, General!”
Moments later, in his personal chambers atop the Black Spire, his guest, dripping wet in a frayed cloak, stood at the window, looking down into the bay at the sinking fortress.
“This meeting is premature,” Oligarch Morinth scoffed. “Coming to the Spire was very a foolish move.”
“Betraying me is a foolish move, Morinth,” Lord Marcus Orn said as he turned from the window, holding a bloody hand to his side. “Killing me wasn’t part of the plan.”