“Are ye sure?â€
Brynnalia bolted to a seat from her lazy recline, the heels of her leather boots stomping hard on the wooden floor as her index finger pressed hard on the pearl in her ear. She could not believe what she just heard.
A group was heading down the tunnels from below the Hammers, towards the Black Cells. That news itself was a bit of a surprise considering the most likely prisoner of interest in those cells had escaped but a day ago. Brynnalia had expected cold rage from Taeros with the delivery of the news, but instead she found an odd quietude about him since. Where she may have assumed to see murderous ruthlessness, she now only saw a shadow of weariness about him that was uncharacteristic of the Monetarist noble.
Then the very next day, she had to deliver another ill tiding to her employer: a third Monetarist noble was found murdered. This news came from Vesper Bay, where the head of the House Mumuqaru had been found with his throat slit open. He had been on a carriage that was to take him to the next ship bound for Limsa Lominsa. No one could say exactly when the Lalafellin noble had been killed, only that it was on the way to Vesper Bay. They had not discovered his body until the carriage had reached its destination however.
Of course, upon his person was yet another letter, one that detailed a conspiracy between Mumuqaru, Quillburn, and Rezhenne. The setup was almost predictable now, but even so, it did not bode well for her employer. The fact that it was the third Monetarist noble killed, and one within Taeros’ circle…
Jameson Taeros did not take well to that news either. But this time, as expected, he took it with his usual air of detachment. Brynn could still see his displeasure in those pale amber eyes however.
Brynnalia knew that Taeros was affected more by his conflict with Lazarov than he would ever show. She had learned some details of his recent financial debts which made her worry about her own employment. The increased number of guards he had hired and the losses he had suffered in terms of reputation and material goods, slowly but surely drained the Monetarist's resources. All because of Lazarov and that Deneith girl.
With at least the latter in custody, and Crofte and Grimsong's recent partnership, Brynnalia thought for certain that they had some viable leads to track down the revolutionary pirate. But their recent trip to Mor Dhona proved fruitless yet once again, as they only found another middle man to the smuggler with no direct contact. All they discovered was an abandoned cove where the pirate used to store Garlean metal and ceruleum cores. But nothing remained by the time they had reached the place, and nothing led to Lazarov. Crofte and she had returned to Ul'dah empty handed.
Perhaps this news may change things, she thought to herself as she hurried through the manse toward the noble’s office and private chamber. When she entered, she saw Taeros flipping through papers at his desk, and his valet at his side. The heavily armored guard that had recently become Taeros’ ever present shadow also stood by the door, and there was a fourth figure--a cloaked man with a scepter hanging by his side near the hearth. She glanced to all of them as she collected her breath.
“I have some news.†Her urgent tone drew the attention of all those within. “A group is headed down the waterways toward the Black Cells.†When Taeros arched a single brow, she continued. “And one of them, matches the description of Nero Lazarov.â€
That brought Jameson’s full attention as he set the parchment in his hand down. The armored figure turned toward her with a metallic creak as well. “Are you certain?†the noble asked sharply.
Brynnalia nodded. “He matches the description given to the guards, and given the fact that the person kept there until yesterday was supposedly of interest to the pirate…†She shrugged. “It might be him.†She fished out another pearl from her pouch and plugged it into her other ear. "I'll notify Crofte."
There was a determined set to the noble's jaw as the Taeros rose from his seat. "Mr. North, help me get into my armor."
Brynnalia bolted to a seat from her lazy recline, the heels of her leather boots stomping hard on the wooden floor as her index finger pressed hard on the pearl in her ear. She could not believe what she just heard.
A group was heading down the tunnels from below the Hammers, towards the Black Cells. That news itself was a bit of a surprise considering the most likely prisoner of interest in those cells had escaped but a day ago. Brynnalia had expected cold rage from Taeros with the delivery of the news, but instead she found an odd quietude about him since. Where she may have assumed to see murderous ruthlessness, she now only saw a shadow of weariness about him that was uncharacteristic of the Monetarist noble.
Then the very next day, she had to deliver another ill tiding to her employer: a third Monetarist noble was found murdered. This news came from Vesper Bay, where the head of the House Mumuqaru had been found with his throat slit open. He had been on a carriage that was to take him to the next ship bound for Limsa Lominsa. No one could say exactly when the Lalafellin noble had been killed, only that it was on the way to Vesper Bay. They had not discovered his body until the carriage had reached its destination however.
Of course, upon his person was yet another letter, one that detailed a conspiracy between Mumuqaru, Quillburn, and Rezhenne. The setup was almost predictable now, but even so, it did not bode well for her employer. The fact that it was the third Monetarist noble killed, and one within Taeros’ circle…
Jameson Taeros did not take well to that news either. But this time, as expected, he took it with his usual air of detachment. Brynn could still see his displeasure in those pale amber eyes however.
Brynnalia knew that Taeros was affected more by his conflict with Lazarov than he would ever show. She had learned some details of his recent financial debts which made her worry about her own employment. The increased number of guards he had hired and the losses he had suffered in terms of reputation and material goods, slowly but surely drained the Monetarist's resources. All because of Lazarov and that Deneith girl.
With at least the latter in custody, and Crofte and Grimsong's recent partnership, Brynnalia thought for certain that they had some viable leads to track down the revolutionary pirate. But their recent trip to Mor Dhona proved fruitless yet once again, as they only found another middle man to the smuggler with no direct contact. All they discovered was an abandoned cove where the pirate used to store Garlean metal and ceruleum cores. But nothing remained by the time they had reached the place, and nothing led to Lazarov. Crofte and she had returned to Ul'dah empty handed.
Perhaps this news may change things, she thought to herself as she hurried through the manse toward the noble’s office and private chamber. When she entered, she saw Taeros flipping through papers at his desk, and his valet at his side. The heavily armored guard that had recently become Taeros’ ever present shadow also stood by the door, and there was a fourth figure--a cloaked man with a scepter hanging by his side near the hearth. She glanced to all of them as she collected her breath.
“I have some news.†Her urgent tone drew the attention of all those within. “A group is headed down the waterways toward the Black Cells.†When Taeros arched a single brow, she continued. “And one of them, matches the description of Nero Lazarov.â€
That brought Jameson’s full attention as he set the parchment in his hand down. The armored figure turned toward her with a metallic creak as well. “Are you certain?†the noble asked sharply.
Brynnalia nodded. “He matches the description given to the guards, and given the fact that the person kept there until yesterday was supposedly of interest to the pirate…†She shrugged. “It might be him.†She fished out another pearl from her pouch and plugged it into her other ear. "I'll notify Crofte."
There was a determined set to the noble's jaw as the Taeros rose from his seat. "Mr. North, help me get into my armor."
