Zantaric was as quiet as ever, indicated by the silent/sneaky gazes of the unwarying townsfolk and the hideous criminals that plagued its streets. Swords, bows, daggers and many other weapons could have been seen swaying around the pockets and belts of the "regular" citizens. Of course regular in Zantaric meant if you stepped on somebodies territory, you were dead meat. The same thing applied for the main HQ of The Everlasting, the mercenary guild and probably the baddest, cruelest guild in the entire continent of Lomedor.
A small hatch had been secretly adorned upon a rather intricate grave near the ancient temple. Hardly anybody was allowed to go near that peculiar place, as the mere sensitivity of their feet could spring a trap in which they would die a most horrifying death. Vines would entrope their feets as steel bars would crash into their ankles and at the same time, a swaying axe hidden amongst the trees above would decapitate the victim at any moment in time. Of course, members of The Everlasting had nothing to fear, as their bases were connected underground and travel was long, but easily acquired.
The guild master of this notorious guild, Nozdormu, had just recently set up a table in which his fellow guild members were to discuss future alliances with the several different nations, the most important one being Serendipity. Serendipity had been kingless for a while now, and it would require some protection, something that The Everlasting could most certainly do. Although The Everlasting's members were far from generous, business was business, and the guild's clients paid heavily.
Sitting patiently on his desk, Nozdormu awaited the arrival of his fellow members, eager to discuss the new positions and plans that would be emersed from this discussion. There were many guards in black robes situated around the meeting room, so intolerance or foolishness would be punishable by severe torture or perhaps even death. Priority came first, then came life.
