“You, ah, have business with the slips?” Rom cautiously asked.

“I do, but they have yet to recognize it,” Rezkin answered.

“Nobody goes to the Black Hall without an invitation,” protested the second. “At least, if they do, they don’t ever come out.”

Rezkin shrugged. “Perhaps there have been others, but I know of one who has for certain.”

Already suspecting the answer, Rom asked anyway. “Who would that be?”

Rezkin grinned in answer. “But, do not concern yourself. They are aware we are coming.”

“You sent word ahead?” Rom asked with a tiny measure of relief. Perhaps the Slips would just send them away instead of killing them since they had announced their arrival ahead of time.

“Of course,” Rezkin replied. “The Hall is very formal, full of rules and etiquette. It would have been considered rude to show up unannounced, so naturally I sent word informing them that I would be coming to collect their fealty.”

“You what?!” Rom exclaimed. “You told them you were comin’ to try to take them over? The Assassin’s Guild?! You can’t be serious,” the second sputtered, momentarily forgetting to whom he was speaking.

“I am completely serious,” the Raven replied with a dangerous edge to his voice. “I have need of their services and resources, and more importantly, I need to implement some restrictions on their activities.” He said this as though he were discussing acquiring a new business.

“They’re assassins! They’ll kill us all!” Rom shouted.

“If you keep shouting, we will have more to worry about than just assassins,” Rezkin remarked. A few patrols monitored the city perimeter and along the river in an attempt to help quell the rising number of bandits, but Rezkin had little concern for the patrols or bandits. As far as anyone could tell from this distance, they were just two men and a couple of small-ones in a boat crossing the river, nothing suspicious, but Rezkin did not want to attract anyone’s attention. The river was very wide, though, so it was unlikely anyone had heard Rom’s shouting.

“Just assassins? Who in the Hells is more frightening and dangerous than assassins?” Rom argued.

Rezkin cocked his head curiously and stared at the second. Rom finally caught the inference and swallowed hard. “Y-You don’t seem too concerned.”

The Raven smirked and replied, “Despite what you obviously think of me, I am not suicidal. I would not be going into this confrontation if I were not confident in my ability to prevail. That is not to say there will be no danger. There most certainly will be, and the consequences of failure are pain and death. Ash is familiar with such consequences.” He looked at the younger small-man who smiled hesitantly at the Raven’s morbid reminder of their first meeting. “I have maneuvered the conditions to my benefit, and I believe I have the Skills to prevail. That does not mean I will succeed.”