Salad of doom

Ailwin’s jaw tightened as he considered Katrien’s words, but he didn’t immediately respond. His eyes flicked to the map pinned on the wall behind his desk, lines and notes scrawled across it in his meticulous hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, though the tension was still palpable.

Chateau d’Onterre wasn’t exactly a shining moment for us, he muttered, almost to himself. But you’re right—shut gates and silence never mean anything good. If you’ve got people you trust, we’ll make it happen. A mage isn’t out of the question, but they’d better know what they’re doing. I’m not risking another Ardyn. The name carried a weight that Katrien would recognize—a cautionary tale from one of their early missions.

Ailwin stepped back, creating some distance between them, and leaned against the desk. There’s always Morrigan, they’ve proven to be a useful ally, even if I don’t think I’ll ever fully trust them, that’s not to say I don’t either. Morrigan was complicated, she definitely had agendas of her own, that didn’t always coincide with the Forsaken, but they’ve also proven a useful ally in the past we shouldn’t disregard easily.

As far as a trip to the Free Marches, I believe it’s prudent. We don’t want to muscle in on the wrong neighbourhoods but we want to be where we can make the most profit and be the most effective for our people.

@Katrien