I had a long grey beard down to my feet, wrinkles had set in on my face, and despite being naturally brown my skin was about as light as it would go, like a dying tree trunk. I also had long fingernails from not clipping them and the robe I wore barely hung off my frame. I'd been letting myself die for the past hundred years and it was taking a long time to actually hit the mark. I lived in a cave of my own choosing, not one of Valyra's (its former tenant had been a family of lizards, they made kind of good eating). I had the majority of Valyra's library with me, they lined the walls of the cave on haphazardly constructed shelves (its not like I could have carpenters make shelves for my cave dwelling), I had a bed of straw, a table that leaned to the right where I did my writing, and a chair to sit at (prior to my journal writing I had taken upon myself to write theories of trade route developments, they weren't very good theories and I burned them all). I also had made a poorly constructed door and covered it with brush to obscure the entrance.
I'd been living in the cave for the past three years and outside of going out for food had not really visited civilization with any kind of regularity (such is the nature of wanting to die). I didn't even wear my sword anymore, it laid next to the bed, its unnatural blueish blade providing an extra light source aside from my one oil lamp. I was going over one of my trade theories when I heard a knock at the door, I'd expected this. I figured it was Morley, finally come to take my soul and all my ill gotten knowledge. Earlier I might have fought, but instead I just walked to the door and opened it.
It wasn't Morley waiting for me, instead it was a pale skinned man dressed in a mix of light leather and silk (the leather was brown, the silk blue, he looked a little strange). He had a gun belt hung low on his waist, an eight shot revolver was at hand level and his right hand was near the butt of the pistol (a common behavior when facing off against magic users, especially for Ronerawth). I could see the stamped R in gold filigree which not only told me it was a Ronerawth pistol, but it was military issue (they normally stamped their regular guns, but not in gold filigree). He didn't wear a rifle, but behind him I could see a small squad of soldiers and they all had rifles. More proof he was military, his escort were all wearing silk uniform in the Royal Blue Ronerawth had adopted with their most recent emperor. I do have to commend Ronerawth, their silk uniforms always looked sharp, even if they provided little protection (not like there was much protection from magic or bullets anyway, metal armor had fallen out of style centuries ago). He didn't wear a hat, his long black hair drifted in the wind that had mysteriously shown up outside my cave.
"Trezlan Lorentino?" Questioning tone, like he expected something else.
"Yes?" My voice was dry, I hadn't spoken to someone in over a year and after an argument with myself had stopped talking to myself before that (look I'm still right, I just didn't feel like belaboring the point with someone so stubborn).
"Colonel Rojove Mr. Lorentino," He held his hand out and I shook it, I could see a look of minor revulsion when his hand touched my long boney one.
"Pleasure Colonel, if thats all I have things to get back to." I turned to go back to my table and I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"This isn't a social call Mr. Lorentino, I'm here on behalf of the emperor we need your help." The emperor needed my help? Yeah lets just say after my last visits with Ronerawth I wasn't exactly sure this was not a total trap.
"And I take it this isn't so much of a request? You do know that this is Red Hand Land right?" Not like I was a citizen of either, but an armed squad of six men couldn't have slipped someones notice somewhere.
"We have contacted the Red Hand and they were fine with us using your services." I'm sure they were, or didn't even know who I was. The Red Hand wasn't known for their exact record keeping services. He smiled, I could see they had brought enough horses for me and it appeared a pack animal for my stuff.
"Am I to be paid for my services?" If I was going to be drug south to Ronerawth, I wanted at least just compensation.
"Handsomely," The Colonel had a handful of stamped gold coins that flashed in front of my eyes before he pocketed them. I was half tempted to kill all the men and just take the gold, but I was also intrigued as to what an Emperor could need of a poor lowly necromancer like myself.
"Well then what are we waiting for? Have your servants collect my stuff and lets get this show on the road." It took hours for them to get all my books loaded on to their pack animals (They were so rough I had to show them multiple times the delicacy of some of the volumes I had). All the same we were eventually all mounted and headed south slowly (poor pack animals were loaded down pretty heavily). And thus began my journey back into the world, motivated by curiosity in money. You know that could be the title of my memoires "Trezlan Lorentino: Curisoity and Money."
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