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Given it some thought and a look through the current lore materials and I'll give it some interest and some fleshing out of a character. Here he is.

Jailed for scaring the children after multiple warnings
"I could see that. Gets pretty old, someone telling you what to do, who to kill, how to off them...they've all got some darker motive. Sounds a lot like this guy we're after. For once, it'll be refreshing to bite the paying hand. So, we roll out tonight to set up our monitoring equipment, play with the night watchman's head a bit, then wait for the right tidbit of information to drop in before we proceed. Anything else we need to consider before we get to work?"
"Oh, wow...46...had more use for you than they had me. US Army decided 20 was enough for me. That's only counting confirmed. To satiate the bloodlust, I had a few others...off the record...plenty I would say I could live with. Enemy combatants. Enemy leaders. The occasional foreign asshole not much different than the hick wife-beaters back home I would have loved to set up and pop one out the back of their necks. Other side business...I'm not so proud of. Mistaken identity. Crossfire. Collateral. They teach you 'ragheads are the same; even if they don't look hostile, they are. Don't mind a few 'innocent' casualties.' They're not supposed to get religion involved. They do anyway. Keeps things simple and they only offend the occasional comrade. Tell you the truth, a man's his own god if he can justify what we've done."
Interested
"Sorry about that. The thought usually just slips out when it crosses my mind. Until I can find a therapist who won't rat me out to the feds, I just chalk it up to my time in the military leaving me on the messed-up side. You might recall how it is. They train you to see targets and soon, any humanity any enemy may have slips away. Before you know it, you can justify anything. Especially anything which would be atrocious to do to anyone else."
"Thank you," Lanestol said, taking a piece of bread offered and spreading some butter in the middle once he broke it before placing the halves back together and eating it. "I will have an order of your special."

Chicken? Sounds delicious.

Well, too bad you won't be the one around to try it, now, will you? Don't mess with my business with others. Especially my business in dealing with other Orzhov members. You are not in an enviable position, either. You are technically dead. It is only a matter of releasing your soul from mine that you have not crossed over.

Quiet...I heard something about Nezumi...let me have control for a bit. I can offer them more information.

Fine. You go back when that talk is over.


Lanestol started to overhear the conversation between Alexander and Two-One about the alleged rat problem. His eyes had switched back to red as he leaned in closer to pick up the details. He started clutching his staff harder in anger when Alexander told of the Nezumi invading other villages around Kamigawa.

"Damned rat bastards...sounds like the sentries have gone soft since I left them. They let their blades dull and rust in the pursuit of peace, tranquility and enlightenment," he said in a mocking tone. "Feh. What wisdom we had was good enough. That wisdom included how to drive those thieving, backstabbing garbage incarnations of living garbage. I would be happy to accompany you on your mission. I am fine with either approach. I would prefer to just cut the lot of them down, though we can see what to do once we arrive. Not to pressure you too hard. I just really want to go home, test my blade against one of their so-called 'warriors' and see just how well they stand up. And you can feel free to take them apart and have a look at their insides. It would make for very interesting study."

You're stalling for that chicken, aren't you?

Well, since you already forced me back once, it'll be a while longer before you can do it again.

Gods help me. Whoever and wherever they may be.
"Alright. Well, I'm sure if we paid a visit to a local, well-funded hospital or medical practice, one of the staff there would keep a strong sedative. The stronger, the better--keep him out a while and we wouldn't have to take near as much." His countenance seemed to turn much more sinister after giving the plan a bit more thought--specifically, the thought of having their target sedated and possibly believing what he was seeing wasn't real. "And perhaps, once we're done, we could blow off a little stress and slowly torture him. So long as he thinks it's a dream, he can only believe it to be a nightmare he's powerless against..." Eric let out an evil laugh before he snapped back into focus. "Disregard whatever I may have just said."
"Alright. So just convince him he's either dreaming or hallucinating from his weary, drunken state. Sounds like it'd work. Would any day of the week work or do we have to do this on a certain day of the week in his schedule?"
Granted. I spin around and slop paint on a canvas and call it art. That'll be $50,000.

I wish I had my own personal miniature cannon.
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