Another short burst of laughter, and then the man was leaning over his desk with fire in his eyes. “I don’t take kindly to talk like that, and you can bet the guildmaster doesn’t either.”

Rezkin cocked his head to the side and said, “You would have me believe you are the second named Draphus, yet I know you are the guildmaster and therefore must be Martius. I have a proposal for you.” Martius leaned back in his chair again and tapped the desk with one finger in contemplation. Rezkin shook his head slightly and said, “You can reach for that crossbow, but it will be the last thing you do before I take your head.”

Martius’s wandering hand stopped. He grinned showing a full set of yellow teeth. Actually, at least two of the teeth looked to be replacements carved from bone. “You think to intimidate me in my own guildhouse? I have an entire room of men just behind you at my beck and call, not to mention Tyre and Barclay in this very room.”

Ah, Spitwad had a name, and it was Tyre. Barclay had to be the other bored guard. Both men grinned showing several broken and rotting teeth of their own. Rezkin nodded pleasantly to each of the men and then turned his attention back to the guildmaster. “If your guards wish to remain breathing, they will not interfere. You, however, have a decision to make, and you have not even heard my proposition.”

The guildmaster rested his elbows on the desk as he grinned over his intertwined fingers. “Very well. I’ll hear this proposition. Let no man say I’m not a gracious host, even to those who are obviously lacking in intelligence or sanity.”

Rezkin drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword. The warrior, himself, was conditioned against such ticks, but the masters had impressed upon him that showing them at opportune times would make him appear more human, or more menacing, depending on the desired outcome. Choosing the right tick at the right time was a difficult skill, and it had taken years of observing the prisoners and other “visitors” to the fortress to use them effectively. Now, he realized those visitors were prisoners just as any of the others. It seemed that everyone who ever set foot in that fortress was destined to die there—except him.

“I know how your operation works, and I have seen enough to find it lacking. In addition, I have decided that I have a use for your personnel. Therefore, you have two choices. You will serve me or you will die,” Rezkin stated succinctly.

The guildmaster frowned. “I tire of this. I thought you would at least come up with something more creative. Kill him,” he said waving at the mercs to get on with it.