Ban’Koliath stood alone on a street corner in the bustling metropolis of Raxal. He hailed a carriage and climbed into the cab. They’d all arrived separately throughout the remainder of the afternoon and it was time to enact Ian’s plan. The ride afforded him an opportunity to review his part one more time. Get inside, go to my desk, and wait for the last person to leave then head to the roof. He pulled back the curtain and gazed up at the late evening sun. Shouldn’t be more than an hour. He hoped everyone else would be ready because he knew they would not get another chance.

The carriage came to a halt outside the law office and the minotaur climbed out. He took a moment to glance up at the uppermost floors. Ban'Koliath wasn’t nervous by nature, but when he gazed upon those floors he felt a tingle of fear run along his horns. A foreboding presence that had never been there before reared up and for a long tense second he could not get his legs to respond. His eyes hardened, he forced a step forward and the malignant sensation shattered its hold broken. He walked through the main lobby and stepped onto the floortal. Seconds later the platform rose heading for Justiciar Law.

Justiciar Law was the Order’s only lead in a century on the whereabouts of their ancient enemy the Harlequin Court. Ban’Koliath had been proud to be the eyes and ears of the Order but in the years at his station he’d found nothing to connect the two organizations. He suspected the Partners were relaying information to the Court but only three meetings had taken place between the Partners and a client including the most recent one between Ian, Vale, and Dakon. But that one event had set everything in motion and for the first time in over a century the Court was moving out in the open. And he would stop them, no matter the cost.

The floortal chimed pulling Ban’Koliath from his thoughts and the doors opened. He spotted Sharlot and held the floortal door for her. The hailer hastily finished packing up her bag and trotted over to him.

“Much obliged, Ban’Koliath. At least someone around here still has manners. Everyone else just rushed out when the news came down,” She said as she slipped into the floortal and pressed the button for the lobby.

“What news?” Ban’Koliath asked.

“Oh, I thought that’s why you were here. After almost five hundred years in business Justiciar Law is closing. Today was the last day for everyone. I thought that’s why you’d come back in,” Sharlot informed him.

“No, but thank you for telling me,” He said giving her a slight nod, and then let the door go, “May you never walk in shadows, Sharlot.”

She offered him a downcast smile returning the sentiment as the doors slid shut.

He headed through the glass sliding doors dark thoughts of betrayal echoing in his mind. How did they find out? Should I signal the others it’s off? He quickly quashed his concerns. While he didn’t think it was a coincidence, they had to press forward. Whatever was happening here Ian was at the center of it all. And the fact that Harlequin Court desired Ian so badly meant that they could not be allowed to capture him. This new development changed nothing.

Instead of taking the floortal up, as clients did, Ban’Koliath took the side stairs and walked the few flights up to the lawyour offices. The office was virtually deserted. Weapons, armor, and other items were all gone from the walls. Faint outlines remained behind from the objects that had hung for years. He felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at the empty office space. His coworkers were decent people. Not a single one he’d investigated had turned up any ties to the Court. He knew this was all for the greater good but that didn’t make it sit well with him. One light remained on in the entire office, Flint’s, Ban’Koliath’s friend and informant.

“Hey old dwarf,” Ban’Koliath said, rapping on the doorframe to Flint’s office.

“Hello stubborn bull,” Flint replied sullenly. His usual jovial teasing was gone replaced with an angry under-bite.

“I’m sorry Flint. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Ban’Koliath said with genuine sorrow.

“I will miss this place," Flint said with a heavy sigh. His desk and all the little touches in his office had been taken down from the walls. His office packed up except for a single bottle and two glasses. “I have been preparing for this day the moment you told me who you were and why you were here. I suspect my friend that this also means they know you are coming. Please be careful.” He poured two glasses as he spoke, and offered one to Ban’Koliath.

The minotaur accepted the offered glass and raised it to Flint. The dwarven lawyour returned the gesture and they both downed the fiery spirit. The pungent liquor burned Ban’Koliath’s throat and hit his stomach with the force of a boulder. He coughed and looked at the bottle with surprise, Dwarven Golem’s Blood.

“Where… Flint that stuff costs a fortune!” Ban’Koliath exclaimed in surprise.

“Consider it a goodbye present from your old superior,” Flint said with a laugh. “Listen Ban’Koliath, whatever happens, know that I consider you a friend. Be careful and may you never walk in shadows." He offered his hand to Ban’Koliath.

The minotaur gripped the dwarf’s forearm and they shook. Without another word the dwarf walked out. Ban’Koliath watched him go and when the floortal doors shut, he bolted for the roof. The liquor added strength and endurance with every bounding step. By the time he reached the roof he felt like he could fly.

“Valethalassa, Ian!” Ban’Koliath kept his voice to a harsh whisper.