The master thief let out an irritated sigh. “And what of those who fought our vigilante?”

“Believe me; they won’t be talking for a while.”

“Very well,” Rypan said darkly as they entered the chamber where an old man waited. Foray stared across the room, surprised to see the guest who sat at the withering wooden table.

“I want you to personally go to that village tomorrow night, Foray,” Rypan ordered.

The old man used a staff to help himself stand. He had a few wisps of long hair hanging from his head much in the same way his tan robes hung from his thin form.

“Now, leave me,” Rypan said to Foray.

“Business waits.”