7 grains and plans

The flaming timber in was one place to please almost anyone. At least anyone who would frequent such a place. The reddish wood of the floor and ceiling, to the stones on the wall, to the leather and silk puffs, to the fine furniture. Everything high quality.

That inn was located on the emerald district, the high class part of the city. Made specially for lords and bourgeoisie intrigues and dodgy transactions, the place had comfort and practicality in mind. There was always a band playing on the first floor, to mask the muffles and words. The tables where kind of far apart, everyone of than on the corners, with high wood barriers between than. The musicians played on the middle of the tavern part. Facing the entrance, to not eversdrop on anyone

The owner claimed it to be a stablemate to respect the customer privacy, and well manners. But most of the high class, be it nobles, rich, magistrates or other important people, knew of the place true business. That was a place to have any kind of secret conversation, be it a cheating scandals with the nobles, or a new tax reduction agreement between the merchants and officials, may it be special ops organizations.

The latter been the reason for the conversation going on at the second floor. There, assessed by to sets of stairs opposing the entrance, were about 16 rooms. These where maximum security, secrecy, and deniable rooms. The owner claimed than to be for parties, but the reason was, again, dodgy. In those rooms happened conversations of vital importance to the city. That room was the reason the crown turned a blind eye to the real meaning of the inn.

On the room number 5, ome of these conversations was happening. Illuminated by a lamp made using termal magestry, it's light colored the room orange, like it was all made of liquid iron of a blacksmith forge. The Light painted other figures as well. A 60 years old man, with a painted beard, wearing a rich, although plain looking robe green and black robe, and a lose off hat. He looked like an average magistrate, almost out of the state mandatory serving time, and ready to set his on goals, although the advanced age. One could assume he just discoreverd his gift, or curse, depends on who you ask, late in life, soo, an old adept of the arts. A big mistake that was, considering that old man was an old gem. A prodigy old years. The kings personal friend and counselor, silmaron.

Next to him, a man wearing a celebratory armour. The practical version would be made of more expensive, but more useful material, although more plain looking. The armour he were made more on a mix of silver and iron, weighting about 60% less than his actual armour. He had military style haircut and an everyday cut beard. The most apparent thing was his body. 2.40 meters of muscle and power. That effect been active by the magistrates augmentations. He appeared to be on his forties.

On the table, a portion of salted grains. A rather uncomun meal, specially on the higher class. The poor would eat it when there was no money for bread or other meals, basically the leftovers of the bakeries and cuisines, i wasn't even on the menu. But the magistrate ate it nonstop. He was the only one eating.

The opposite side, there was a man and a woman. Both covered in black. They covered their faces with porcelain masks, and their arms and hands on dark rags. Even their feet was covered on a cloth softer than normal rigid leather of boots and shoes, to make least noise as possible. They where armed to the brim, with a hand crossbow, many hidden knifes and two curved short swords on the back. They where royal intelligence personal

Spies to be said.

".... of most vital importance, the results of such a party are guaranteed, as the other cities already emploied similar things, according to the last week breathing. One public and wider organization privately funded and one deniable state one, smaller and more specialized. The results are... are.... i am sorry, can you stop the monchy crunchy?"

The man beside him stop his hand midway to his mouth. He slowly looked up from the plate into the mans eyes. They stared at each other for some seconds. The tension was tangible. Both the mans where dangerous and powerful, the Spies knew that. They couldn't even breath, as they felt their lifes at risk. Than the old man slowly turned his hand down. The spies let the air in, greatfull for the catastrophe avoided.

The armored man continued speaking, as he wasn't concerned of what just happened:" as i was saying, the results of the public 'guild' are showing. People are creating their own heroes, and attracting investors. The contract also enables than to work outside the Wall, so, as they kill monsters for ingredients and resources, they take care of our breach problems as well. As I said, no need to put your own spy into it. Anyway, is he trustfull?"

"Very much" the magistrate responded." Never the less, the other group is more important for me anyway, but more difficult to have a spi in anyway, so i have to trust you" he stares at the woman in black" how is it going?"

She responded directly:"the operation is going as planned sir. They already took out one of the largest drug dealer on the slum, he was making a network of mercenaries and traficants, but they dispersed all of than and burned the hideout to the ground. They will all go back to anonimacy as we said, and are waiting for further orders, as we commanded, on the hideout, not attracting any attention..."

..............

Far away from the fine inn, a bunch of adventures was attracting much attention. A large karumbe drunkly played cards, paired with a catman, against to other patrons. The catman was incredible good at it, but the turtleman was awfully bad, so they where at a draw against the other party.

A man with some fine clothes danced elegantly for a while with one of the girls in the in, as her father fallen asleep drunkly, as the music turned into a more energetic beat, he adjusted the dance acordly, making wide spins, backflips and complicated moves. The girl was impressed at first, but he just kept going and going, after some minutes she went back home, leaving her father behind. The man didnt even mind.

Nayla was playing her flute with the musicians, being impressed by the dancer, mostly the vigilant( no makeup or over the top clothing this time, just a white shirt and brown pants, with soft leather shoes. Daija was celebratingly drinking a shot of gold poise, nicknamed the tralack piss, after winning a drinking match between her and 4 other man, two of witch mutant.

Blending in wasn't the correct term.

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