"May the gods have pity on us, The Death Dealer? She could be in this room right now and we wouldn't have any idea!" this cry for help fell on unresponsive ears, many people, men and women, of various species and each dressed in rather colourful robes stood around a circular table in a room lit solely by mana lights.
A state of the art construction, utilising the knowledge of many fields of magic, it was supposedly intruder-proof, providing its occupants with perfect safety, imposing an oath of non-aggression on everyone within the room as well, the perfect meeting room possible.
Yet, none of the people inside appeared relaxed in the least, most, if not all of them had taken part in the illicit act of slave-buying, all to forward their various researches or for personal amusement, not a single one of them wasn't regretting their decisions sourly at the moment.
