Slowly but surely, the young blood has grown closer to the succubus's nest of irreplaceable assets. From gathering intel on those short on payments to spying on the nobles that the Mistress had within her clutches, and although he worked through a proxy connected directly to the demon, Monty had finally grown himself a name–a name with no face to pin it to.
Like a shadow he made fierce use of his thief skills, sneaking in, sneaking out like a noble feline snubbing a life out of its nest and retreating before the mother arrived. No murder by the blade as non-lethal poisons were enough warning for his cause. After all, what good is a noble that can't pay his toll for merely existing in this land sustained by the devil's allowance?
