02/19/2024 Snippet, JUDITH STORMCROW AND THE FLIM-FLAM MAN.

Gregor needs his tone tweaked. I’m still trying to figure out how he’s being changed by circumstances.

…

“I’d tell you the job was so simple it can’t go wrong, Mistress Stormcrow, but we both know that’d just alarm you.” Gregor was smooth, damn the man. What was interesting was that he wasn’t turning on the charm. It looked like she had a client who could take a hint.

“I’m still not honestly expecting there to be special problems,” the man went on. “Silvergrove is claimed by no particular realm or cult, the site has been abandoned since the fall of the Great Realm, and there’s no local history of monsters or specters. I’m looking for old texts, and historical relics in general, but nothing specific. If some of those relics turn out to be made of gold or shiny bits, I’m perfectly fine with letting your company get a decent taste, once I have the things I need. ‘Do not begrudge the worker his morsel,’ after all.”

That sounded like a quote of some kind, although Judith didn’t recognize it offhand. It admittedly sounded like a sensible attitude to have. “‘All fingers are sticky,’” she quoted back to him, which made him frown for a brief second. Judith didn’t know why. It was practically the same sentiment.

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