. . . Barbod coiled up on the soft rug. The room was warm. This suited him well. It was also dark. This too, suited him well.
“I hired two dracanae to kill a certain loogaroo named Notchimine.” Barbod nodded, this voice was inhumanly low, but not necessarily male. “They’re either both dead or somehow captured for use in the Death Games. I would advise you to be very, very careful.”
Barbod nodded again, rising up on his coils.
“I am hoping that I will not have to hire another to kill Notchimine. I have other things to spend good money on.”
The naga doubted that the money this being was spending on him was any kind of good. However, money was money, and he had a reasonable charge for his services. He’d never failed to get a job done before.
Then again, thought the serpent, neither had Rhama the Strangler or Xacspheles the Ripper.
He gathered the maps and his. . Down payment, then headed for the door.
“Barbod.”
The naga paused, turning his wedge-like head to his employer.
“I really don’t want you to fail me as well. I plan to take that first payment out of your hide if you do.”
Barbod nodded again and opened the door, slithering out and sliding silently down the stairs. The guards, Lamia, fierce-looking, but no match for a naga, it’d be hardly even at six to one.
He let himself out and headed back to his room at a local inn. Inexpensive, but they had underground rooms for nagas. Warm rocks and cool springs, that was more than enough to keep him comfortable.
Cruising through the bar then downstairs he wasn’t bothered. Even for a naga he was rather large.
He slipped through the curtain and sank into the water, keeping the maps dry, as well as his money, setting them on the ground.
The naga sank into the water with a low groan, going down until nothing but his eyes were above the water. He sighed, there really was nothing like sinking into a cool spring after a long day.
However, he did need to work.
He pulled his torso out and sighed, drying his clawed hands and spreading out the maps and papers.
Alright, the first two dracanae, Rhama was how he remembered her, that glint in her eye showed even through the page. Xacspheles, he discovered, was Rhama’s once-mate, apparently before they become un-sealed they were one of the greatest mercenary teams known.
He supposed the mere scandal of them leaving each other covered up their once-great success.
He pushed the pictures aside, magic capturings of their faces. Tenegraphs. They were taken by the shadows of their faces being absorbed onto a piece of enchanted paper. Always black and white.
He then pulled up tenegraphs of his target, Notchimine. Then his consort, Holly Barker.
Both attractive for witches and loogaroo. The loogaroo plainly had the predatory glare in his eyes, set off by a playful, boyish smirk.
The woman wasn’t different, just her glare wasn’t as natural, something that grew there, not something she was born with.
The naga committed the faces to his memory before pushing them aside also. Then he looked at the blueprints. Detailed ones, he narrowed his eyes. Must be the original building plans. As he laid the other papers on top, showing building updates and changes, he waved a hand, ink flowing off the paper and into a three-dimensional model.
