"In reckless courses of events in Chess, even Rooks would fearlessly dare to stand their fort in the charging course of a rivalling Bishop, when a mere Pawn ministers a stance behind his side with visible revenge in her hands."
~
The Secret Cell of the Under-Ground Dungeons,
Kingdom of Tristendyre,
The first Phrinight of the Second month,
XXI Year of Regency
"Mister Joab Xavier!"
The fainted body of the old man that lit candles every night in the streets of Tristendyre was reclined against the stone wall and the couple stared in shock, wondering how such a familiar and innocent person of everyday life had donned the guise of an unknown and threatening adversary.
"I had even greeted him yestreen whilst passing Hazenvale to take bread to Jehu", said Imogen staring unbelievingly.
"I had assumed he was innocent when he planted the candles of rivenhove in the lampposts, but it appears he is of secret service", said Jaycob, rubbing his chin.
