[h1][color=slategray]Kantus[/color][/h1]
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[indent][i][b]November 18, 11:02 PM
East Commons, Baldwin’s Residence[/b][/i][/indent]
The second wheel.

Kantus had entered through one of the house’s windows. Baldwin never cared to lock them, both because he always forgot to, and that he was so sure of himself being able to fend off any potential burglars. And oh, he could. But Kantus was not here to rob the Bergkonge of his ruined paintings or splintered furniture. No, he was here for what he was owed.

Kantus peered through the darkness and crept his way towards Baldwin’s quarters. His steps were silent, feet hidden by his robes. He creaked the door open and stepped inside, seeing the absolute mess that was the Hand’s room, and the man himself sprawled out over his blood-riddled bed.

Kantus had plenty of needles at hand in case a method of pacification was necessary. He stepped forward, avoiding the leaves and cloths, and loomed over Baldwin. He eyed his sleeping form for a moment before extending one of his arms and placing it on the sleeping Bergkonge’s shoulder.

[color=slategray]“Baldwin.”[/color]