After the duel concluded with neither a single scratch or broken bone, it was time for Talvik and I to conduct business. This business was in the form of an exchange. An exchange of information as agreed upon before we were unceremoniously sidetracked. Though, to be fair, it felt more like an agreement now than before. It was more like a diktat then.
As with any business dealing with a shady and shadowy religious organisation where even the Archmage would refrain from mentioning their existence, we did our business inside a dimly lit room with nothing but a long table between myself and Talvik. His son, Yaluk, stood behind him with a serious expression.
The walls were a depressing layout of gray brick, softly lit by rows of torches that seemed to only ever burn at a certain temperature and intensity. Magic crystals floated in the air around us. The crystals were as small as pebbles but the magic they contained and exuded far outstrip their size.
