In the end, I decided to screw this. Maybe the familiar ground made me bolder, but I was eager to test God of Rogues' mettle… and then decide if I got rid of enough anger to be able to negotiate with him.
I swooped in, with wind whistling in my ears and my most valuable item—the tome of magic—safely stored away from anyone's eyes in my torso. That made me less flexible, but I couldn't leave the book that was my ticket out of Hell lying anywhere away.
I was still a good distance away when the faint noise and the movement at the edge of his vision alerted the scoundrel and he forgot about his previous thoughts.
He didn't recognise me—I could tell from his face even without having to peek into his thoughts. I was just another demon for him, one that he expected to dispatch easily with a few slashes of the daggers he pulled out of their sheaths.
