Corvus had left the guild of their own accord. While it paid well, small diplomacies and treasure collections were hardly a fit for them, and that was all Adrian Giarmund had ever assigned them. At some point during their tenure there Meredith had defected, and thus Corvus had learned of Alk’Hath’s entourage. This was a better fit, especially with Reaver gone.
Adrian was effective, certainly, but he was still a pup in their eyes, unlike Reaver who had been ruthless in his acquisitions.
They completed the letter before they and Vos’iin prepared for their leaving. A nigh-perfect replica of Meredith’s handwriting graced the parchment, heading off with one of Corvus’s familiars until it could find its way into an unknowing courier’s bag. If it were anyone else, they likely would have shaken things up in Almor to lure Adrian out of the north.
“Remember what she said,” Corvus smirked with pale lips, “killing Adrian is not allowed.”
“Keep your words to yourself.” Vos’iin replied with a hint of venom.
They would have laughed, but provoking the elf was not something Corvus wanted to do this early in their journey. Still within the domain of the sorceress, it was best to allow Vos’iin his silence. Even so, they looked beside them to see the ashen-skinned elf focused on the road ahead. He was fairly average given his origins, and Corvus found his more lean musculature somewhat unfortunate. He was strong and skilled but not dominating.
Understanding why Alk’Hath allowed him so many freedoms was beyond them, especially after they murdered Veleria for so pathetic a reason.
The scrawny little thing had denied his advances, and when he tried to take her anyway, Alk’Hath had nearly ripped his manhood off as a result.
Corvus shook their head while they reminisced. This was not their preferred partnership. Were this to go south, then they would likely have to keep Vos’iin in line. They had no real desire to harm Adrian, either; after all, even though ownership had changed, it was true that Corvus held Reaver and his guild in high regard. Adrian did his best despite his many flaws.
* * *
Lindow was their base of operations. An average town in terms of economic prowess and population, it was perfect for Corvus to use. Some houses were abandoned. The presence of people was good cover, plus their usefulness as a deterrence should Cromwell try to blast them out.
They found an unowned home without debris inside. With some help from their unwitting partner, Corvus furnished enough of the place to get comfortable. They considered reinforcing one of the walls to put manacles in it, but decided that Adrian deserved better treatment than that.
Manacles were so last season. They knew that Adrian would feel much more at home tied to a bed.
Corvus was brushing their long, wavy white hair when a shadowed feline crept into the room. It jumped onto the vanity, brushing its cold, smooth fur against Corvus’s arm. This touch gave the mage all they needed.
Adrian had left the north.
“Such a good girl,” said Corvus. They scratched under the familiar’s chin. “Our old employer will get such a warm welcome, won’t he? Yes, he will.” As they continued to pet the familiar, the cat now showing its belly and gracefully receiving rubs as a result, the mage turned to see Vos’iin in the doorway.
The elf had not once removed his armor in their presence. His amber eyes were piercing, lacking obvious intent. Unsettling.
“How long?” Vos’iin asked, his arms folded over his chest.
“Another month at best. Get comfortable.” They told him, eyes darkening as Vos’iin made a sound upon leaving the doorway. Populated places were not good for him. There was little he could do other than sit and wait in this place, though Corvus had seen him leave on occasion. Usually at night or while heavily obscured. Unlike him, the world was their oyster, and they could walk the town whenever they so pleased.
They would have to get more food and water soon enough. As they stood, their familiar jumped onto their shoulder and wrapped around the back of their neck. Corvus pet her head, then walked out and past Vos’iin to enter another room in the home.
Bottles and solutions greeted them. A small workshop was in the corner, and Corvus sat down on a makeshift stool in front of it. Numerous small flasks filled with a vibrant red liquid sat suspended before them. They chose one, reviewed its contents, then drank.
They felt better the further they were from the demesne, but Corvus still needed a pick-me-up in terms of their magic stores. This was especially important if they were to face Cromwell at any point.
For the time being they were content to only examine their familiars. Any further spells were unnecessary. They glanced towards the other half of the room where their bags were left, one of which held a particularly potent source that Alk’Hath had gifted them.
Only for emergencies, Corvus reasoned.