"Tell me again how you are going to do things," Tiber said.
Atrox was dressing. He put a soft brown shirt over his black trousers, then his overcloak after that. He checked his face in the mirror, looking through his black hair to see if he'd spot any dirt. It was a hassle to wash his hair of dried blood and dirt.
But with two washings, the night before and this morning, he'd managed to get his hair into the thick, shiny mane it was once again.
He turned to Tiber. "I'll just tell them I'm closing the ruin, and I need their help."
Tiber shook his head. "Atrox, it's not going to be as simple as it sounds. Have you forgotten there are eight of them—three Flags standing to oppose you? Even the Steelclaw Alliance might not be on your side."
Atrox nodded in understanding. "The fact that they leave the ruin uncleared is evidence enough of that."
