Myths of Power

---Later that night---

"Who does that old fool think he is?" The guard continues to fix his polearm. "He didn't need to do that. The Sargent 's gonna 'ave my hide"

His friend looks over, ignoring his own slashed weapon. "Don't worry. You know they're makin' hundreds of these things down below. As soon as our shift is over, we'll run down and grab a couple o'new ones. Sarge won't be able to tell the difference."

He gives up on the repair and lets the head fall to the ground. As it comes to a rest, he kicks it behind a column. "Ya, i suppose yer right. I just wish that old bastard wouldn..."

The guards face bleaches white as he comes to notice that the large oak doors are wide open, the cloaked figure, despite its hunched nature, seemingly taking up the entire doorway. Both take an audible swallow of pride and fear, and come to attention.

The figure walks forward with a load grumble, ignoring the two. He walks down the hallway and around a corner. Another figure walks out of the shadows to join him.

"I take it the Regent is well?"

"Bah! What do I care for the health of that snivelling whelp!" He taps the man should with his staff

"Careful Argus. He is central to our plans. His army alone can turn the tide!"

"Yes, but you are not the one that must listen to his constant stories. He thinks so highly of his own kind. It is all I can do not to rip out his throat!"

"As long as he has not become suspicious, we will leave him to his own devices."

The two continue down a hallway, turn into a small room and lock a steel strapped oak door behind them.

Argus sits down in a heavily padded chair and rests his staff against the wall. "Tell me, have our spies intercepted their targets yet?"

"They came in contact a few days ago, nothing significant to report as of yet."

The man opens a large cupboard and pulls out a large glass and a decanter of liquid. Opening the decanter, he sniffs strongly.

"An agreeable year, Argus. Would you care for some?"

Argus waves his hand in refusal and the man continues to pour his refreshment.

"What of the assassin?"

The man stops in mid drink and sets down the glass. "We...lost him some time ago."

"YOU LOST HIM?" Argus bolts forward and slams his fist on a table in front of him. Small particles scatter where his fist lands.

"Calm down Argus. He's still out there and I've sent one of our best men to track him down. When he finds him, it will be over quickly and we can start on the second phase."

Argus quickly gets up and hobbles over to him, clearly in a rage. "You had better hope he gets found before any of our men, or worse yet, one of us. If that happens, we can all pray to our gods!"

Argus grabs the glass and throws it across the room, smashing it against old tattered books and scrolls.

"Get out of my sight and make sure our plans are carried out!"

 Argus grabs his arm and the man pulls back in pain. He is dragged towards the door and almost thrown into the hallway.

"Don't you DARE come back here without that assassin head.... otherwise you better ensure someone else come back with yours" Argus slams the door to leave him alone in the hallway.

The man brushes himself off and looks at his arm. A distinct burn mark surrounds the area that Argus grabbed. He quickly covers it before any can see and rushes down towards the exit.