“Shall I spin a tale for you?” “What manner of tale, Brother Yarvi?” “A tale of blood and deceit, of money and murder, of treachery and power.” Mother Gundring laughed, and took another sip from her cup. “The only sort I enjoy. Has it elves in it? Dragons? Trolls?” Yarvi shook his head. “People can do all the evil we’ll need.”
