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[center][color=maroon][i]Too much was said[/i][/color][/center]

	
	The Heretic listened to Brizzi's words with intent as he spoke.  The crime boss’s body language caused that stink of pride to wash away, erasing the boy's facade of bravado.  he became more serious as he realized that things would not be so simple in this coming raid.  By the time Carlo finished, his predatory gaze stared into the void as he was immersed in his own thoughts.  Without shifting his eyes he said [color=darkorange]"give me a moment to think"[/color] contemplating two concerns that he developed as he listened to, and observed that fat geezer.  First he reasoned that since he was dealing with a seasoned con man and probably told him more than he should have, about the ring, which had obvious value, and what his possession of the ring could possibly imply about himself.  Though he couldn't judge the others who sat at the table, he knew for certain that he couldn't fully trust Brizzi.  He decided that he would play along with his schemes for now, he quickly devised a protective measure for if things go wrong.  Second, he had no way of disarming the magic traps with his spells alone.  with this he sat in thought for a couple of minutes, contemplating his options.  [color=darkorange] "Thats impractical... No I can't do this. That type of spell wouldn't be there.  I could try this, but it would be bad news if it fails........... think.... think... That voice talked about that inscription thing, but i doubt I'd have time to learn.... oh.... I see..."[/color]  His heart sank when he realized that he only had only one feasible option.  He cringed visibly and despair poured out of his eyes which he squinted subtly.  He whispered something inaudible, then said in an apathetic monotone [color=darkorange]"I know what to do"[/color].

[center][color=maroon][i]He knows what he must do[/i][/color][/center]

	 He stood up, emitting a strange and terrifying magical aura, and walked towards the doorway, stopping in the frame [color=darkorange]"give me five for preparations, and don't even try to stop me, and don't leave this room while I'm out there either"[/color] he spoke as sternly as a veteran officer.  He then called in all of Brizzi's "employees" to the backroom in the same manner he just scolded those who were already there.  After they piled into the room, fearing the brand of "Heretic", the boy shut the door.  What happened then could not be fully described in the languages of mortals, only that those sorry patrons left in vegetative states by their addictions so severe that there very souls were shambles, found their salvation in their slaughter.  As the heretic did his rounds, reluctantly plunging his dagger into the hearts of those wretched fools, he prayed an ancient prayer. 

[center][color=maroon][i]The dragon feasts[/i][/color][/center]

	When he was finished, he held a flask full of a glowing orange and volatile substance, of powerful magic, and the main room was littered with ash and embers, and every last patron had “disappeared”.  The Heretic was whispering something into the ear of a man who was pale with fear, handing him a letter as he was grabbing his shoulder.  The moment he let go, the man stumbled off, running out the door as fast as he could.  Afterwards the Heretic walked outside [color=darkorange]“Lets get a move on!”[/color] he shouted to those inside. He then cloaked himself in a black robe and wrapped bandages around his face to conceal his identity.  Afterwards he "Borrowed" a black stallion, mounting it, the horse rearing as he awaited his comrades.  

[hr]

[@Rune_Alchemist]