Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplays/@comment-26453572-20160531213146/@comment-26863727-20160611015801

(By the way, the future events in the mirror are always in motion, so...)

Far to the south, a group of soldiers breaks down the door of a bedchamber in a lavishly decorated palace, only to find their target dead on the floor having taken poison rather than face the humiliation of being thrown into his own dungeons.

The centurion of the Imperial Atmoran Guard surveys the older man's knifework. "Sloppy. The son of a bitch never used a weapon in his life, and he suffered longer than he needed to because of it. All right. Secure the rest of the palace, then start gathering up all the decorations you can move, then strip the walls of the gold and jewels. That wealth is the Empire's."

A middle-aged Atmoran in a silken robe enters. "Well. That cleans it all up."