text: If there's a man who can help, it's Lord Tiras, the most powerful man in the region. Surely with his resources, he'll be able to keep you safe as well as offer additional information on the book. With the amount of scholars and magicians in his employ, someone's bound to know something.
  
  You leave the way you came, offering a final farewell to Richter. Luckily, it's still early in the day and Herald's Fire isn't populated. Even more fortunate is that Katia isn't there yet. You had placed the panel back on the wall, hiding the secret ladder. It's best if those after you don't know you disrupted the interrogation. That should buy you a little time at least. Once the man you killed doesn't show, they'll find out. Then you'll give Richter a proper burial.
  
  Lord Tiras' men recognize you, allowing you entry into the keep. However, like before, you're still made to wait outside the lord's study for more than a short amount of time. Six pairs of eyes watch you, daring you to misstep. Bored with guard duty, you imagine they're itching to jump to the "aid of their lord." Jensen, Lord Tiras' man, appears and commands your weapons be left behind. Once stripped, you follow him into Lord Tiras' study.
  
  You're greeted with a familiar sight of books and steps leading down to a sizable desk. Surprisingly, Lord Tiras isn't alone. A woman stands next to him, her coat lined with fur at the edges. Jaina.
  
  "Didn't expect to find you here," you comment.
  
  She laughs in a manner that seems to say I didn't expect you to expect me. "Oh come now. You can't be that thick-headed. Do you really think peaceful Silvaras was the main focus?"
  
  "That's enough, Jaina," Lord Tiras interjects, moving his hand with the command. A gesture that has become all too familiar with the man. "You've served me well recently. I'm not about to throw away your usefulness just because you think in a singular manner."
  
  "With respect, lord, you hired me to put an end to the Spirit of Truth. And that's what I did," you answer.
  
  "Yes, I suppose that's true," Lord Tiras muses, taking his hand to his chin in thought. "Then how is it that each member of your group, besides yourself, of course, traveled with the book in mind?"
  
  Jaina's involvement is apparent now. Richter's, obviously. But Maxx? The big fellow was concerned more with comradery than riches. You voice the thought. "All except Maxx, you mean."
  
  Lord Tiras raises an eyebrow. "So you've spoken to the rogue then?"
  
  > Truth
  "I have," you answer, honestly.
  
  Jaina and Lord Tiras briefly glance at one another. "And just what did he say?" Jaina asks.
  
  Cards on the table. You've spoken the truth about Richter. But that doesn't mean you need to tell them everything. "I discovered his body in Herald's Fire. Took care of the man interrogating him. It was too late. I couldn't save him."
  
  "Yes, but what did he say?" Jaina repeats a second time.
  
  "He spoke of love," you say. Another glance shared between the two. "He was seeing a waitress that worked there. Katia. With his dying breath he told me to take care of her."
  
  "What do you think?" Lord Tiras says to Jaina, ignoring the fact that you can hear him.
  
  "I think he knows more," Jaina answers in a similar manner.
  
  "I concur."
  
  Lord Tiras raps his knuckles on his desk. Immediately, the door to the study bursts open, and six guards rush in, followed by Jensen. Six pairs of eyes, wishing, daring you to misstep. Seems they got their wish, as debatable as the "misstep" may be. Shit. Coming to the lord's keep is feeling like a mistake.
  
  Take the offensive. A quick apprehension may make the group second-guess themselves. You do just that, rushing towards the closest guard opening with a kick to his gut, stunning him in place. You grab a fistful of his tunic, using it for leverage as you spin around the man, your other hand pulling his sword from grasp. Suddenly you stop, allowing your momentum to carry through the man, sending him flying into his surrounding allies. Now armed, with the guards in disarray, you continue the assault.
  
  Short, quick bursts of movement is how you fight. Large sweeping maneuvers have no place when outnumbered, although they make for quite the spectacle. Such technique is meant for the arena or theater. Often those two places overlap. Winning the crowd is much the same as entertaining an audience. After competence, the thrill is all they care about. You adopt the opposite. Survival is all you care about, no matter how it looks.
  
  Recovered now, the six guards hold fast against your sudden assault, turning the tide, making you fight on the defense now. Not a good place when outnumbered. Better to look for a weak point and exploit. Playing defensive is only delaying the inevitable. You put all of your fury into the guard nearest to the exit, abandoning small parries and counters for heavy blows. Your sword crashes into his, hammering harder, attempting to overtake with sheer aggression.
  
  It works...for a moment. You manage to land a clean hit, slicing through the man's inner arm. Immediately, you make a break for the exit. You don't need to defeat them all. Just enough to make your escape. As you near the door, a bright blast of blue fills the study. Pain sears through your legs. One moment you're in full sprint, the next, you're collapsed in a heap, pain filling your senses. The air around Jaina's palms is filled with static energy, a result of the arcane blast just released. Several figures approach your fallen body.
  
  You managed to live longer than expected, but still, this is not how the journey should end. It dawns on you that you never looked inside the pouch. Your final moment is spent wondering what it contained.