And those most cursed ones,

They who heralded the abandonment.

Were left to fester and rot.

In a land devoid of the Pantheons light.

-The Book of the Abandonment 2;25-28

If it hadn’t been quite so dark, and he hadn’t been quite so furious, Gardinal might have enjoyed the sight of Silvermarket at night. He would have appreciated the smooth cut-stone roads. Or admired the well cared for lanterns that dimly illuminated those roads. He might have enjoyed the gentle thrum of business bustling about even at this late hour. Or even the fact that he didn’t need to be constantly on watch for thugs and cutpurses. Yes, he very well might have enjoyed it all, had he not been intent on murdering his brother.

He stomped past the wrought iron gates with gilded reliefs of Sent and Zethor. The guards knew better than to get in his way. Gardinal may have not come here often, but even as a youth news of his temper had been passed among the servants. By now, they all knew to stay out of his way when he looked angry. And today, Gardinal was seething.

Importing weapons for a street gang, Gardinal thought, the nerve of that man. Not to mention garnering the attention of the heretical freaks Gardinal himself was investigating. Did his brother have no boundaries when it came to his ambitions? Gods forbid, had Origdall gone in with the Pitsmaster? The idea of that nearly gave Gardinal pause. No, Origdall could be reckless at the best of times, but he was no fool. Not enough to get involved with the Pitsmaster at least.

Marching up to the door, Gardinal slammed on the large oaken edifice almost hard enough to crack it. It would serve his brother right if he had to replace his door. What Khazimi replaced their stone doors with wood anyway? His brother was practically prancing about like a Sherya with how much he had changed the family home. He banged on the door again.

Eventually the door opened to a very tired Sherya butler in a long, well-dyed hempen nightshirt. “Master Gardinal, why are you…”

Gardinal pushed past the man, knocking him over.

“Where is he? I’m going to kill him.” Gardinal barked. The butler stared wide eyed at him.

“Master Gardinal you can not just simply…”

“I just did.” Gardinal snapped back at him. “His bedchambers?” He asked. The terrified slender man just nodded in response. Gardinal stormed up the grand staircase.

Marching down the upper corridor, Gardinal gave his brother's carved wooden door a kick and it swung open hard to slam against the wall.

“ORIGDALL! YOU BETTER DAMN WELL EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!” Gardinal yelled, stomping into the room.

“What by Zethor?!” Origdall shouted back, pulling the cover up as a woman’s voice screeched from next to him. Gardinal blinked, who was that?

“G… Gardinal?” the women stammered, pulling up the blanket to hastily cover herself. Was that… Origdall’s wife? Helgren was a nice enough woman, they’d been married for years now. Though Gardinal wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing sleeping next to one another. Weren’t the mistress of the house’s chambers several doors down?

“Helgren, I wasn’t expecting to find you…”

“What in the bloody Chaos were ya expecting to find little brother?!” Origdall shouted. Gardinal returned his burning gaze to Origdall. From the little light that made it in from the hall, his brother was beet red, matching his wife next to him.

“I was expecting to find my fool brother who has been smuggling weapons for street gangs!” Gardinal responded, avoiding his sister-in-law. Origdall’s eyes grew wide then darted to his wife and back to Gardinal.

“Helgren my dear, perhaps you should retire to your own chambers for the night.” Origdall said with obvious tension. “Gardinal, won’t you come on down to the cellar with me?” Origdall’s wife rose, pulling the sheets up around her so as not to expose herself, and left the room. That left his brother naked on the bed, only covering his shame with a pillow. They were sleeping naked! Gardinal nearly gasped. Was there no propriety these days?

“What? Is your bed not comfortable enough for ya?” Gardinal said. He had no intention of letting the master merchant weasel his way out of this one. Origdall rose from the bed and Gardinal rolled his eyes and turned away from the nude man.

“Don’t be rolling your eyes at me when you’re the one that bloody well stormed in here.” Origdall barked, hopefully pulling on at least some undergarments. “Scared you’ll like what you see on a good Khazimi man for once, eh?” Origdall bellowed a laugh at that little dig. His brother always had known about his… interests.

A large hand fell on Gardinal’s shoulder. “Come on little brother, let’s get to the cellar, have a couple mugs of krag, then I can explain what’s going on. Alright?” Origdall didn’t wait for Gardinal to respond to begin making his way out the room.

Gardinal grunted. His brother always had a way of putting him off balance before making a request. In both war and business, it was better to fight on your own turf. His brother knew that, and this room was not the battleground Origdall wanted. Krag it was. By the Chaos he could use a mug of the stuff himself after tonight.