In a dusty old cellar in Leirhofn a single candle burned, it was thick talon with a cheap wick and it burned messily and faintly trailing plumes of acrid smoke into the dusty rafters. The bitter yellow light was just enough to see an old cracked betsum wood table, smooth tiles plating the walls and twelve figures sat on rickety stools each one hooded and robed.

One spoke. "So… he failed."

The others shifted.

"Of course, he did!" said another shrouded figure. "We are dealing with Silverblossom and Sunblade here, two silver ranks who fought in the War for the Iron Lands, what were you expecting?"

"It’s been years since they held those titles," replied the first in a hiss. "Now they are just old humans, I excepted them to die!"

"Not old humans, old delvers, they'd had a lot of practise learning how not to die, I doubt any weapon we possess can make them forget that." Replied the second with obvious scorn in his voice.

"We need to send out another agent... a better one!" Sputtered the first.

A new voice spoke, deep and booming. "Jorul had taken the fifth step in the divine style of Loki and mastered the dance of endless blades, we don’t have any other field agents at the fifth step, we barely have any at the fourth! I told you civilisation would weaken them."

"There must be something we can do right? Some scheme or weapon." the first wheedled.

"Why?" asked a new voice, it was low and melodious.

"Why? we took the contract! we..."

"Will just be throwing good men away for nothing, assassins don’t grow on trees and we are outmatched here. I read the report from your far-eye agent, apparently Sigurn didn’t even notice our agents was part of that bandit rabble, DIDN’T NOTICE! One of our best disciples killed by a backswing during a melee, she wasn't just unharmed she was never even endangered.”

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Silence rang throughout the cellar, the busy silence of racing minds.

"We can’t default,” said an officious voice. “We accepted the contract and received payment, and that payment represents a significant portion of our operations budget for this year… if we have to return it the guild will be in the red… to say nothing of our reputation if word gets around that we can’t complete our contracts.”

Silence again, this time even busier.

"What if...." the first voice began.

"Yes?" cut in the melodious voice mockingly.

Angry silence.

"What if..." hissed the first voice sounding like someone desperately trying to stay calm. "We send the meridian after them?"

Dead silence.

"You can’t be serious!" the booming voice yelled. "He's a monster!"

"So are we... technically." Said the second

"The blackhelm’s said..." The melodious voice quavered.

"…they said that they wouldn’t turn a blind eye to us if we caused panic in the streets, I remember well and that’s why we caged him. But this isn't the streets of the capitol or even little old Leirhofn, this is deep in the barren lands, past the Wold and into the Fimbulwinter, it’s a land of monsters already so the meridian and her... cookery won’t be noticed out there.”

Contemplative silence.

"It would be nice," said the melodious voice thoughtfully. "Not having to repair her cell every week."

"And she is the best..." said the first voice now sounding excited. "She was the only vitki we ever got our hands on, her… mental issues are problem of course but her power… remember back when we let her loose?”

More silence now filled with a slightly air of vengeful glee.

"You think she can do it?" said a new voice, smooth and sultry.

"Does it matter?" said the melodious voice now sounding gleeful. "It’s like watching a devourer king fight a writhing bulb, one of them is going to die... and you just don’t care which."

" We are assassins not murderers, precision is important, no?" said the sultry voice again. "How are we going to control her?"

"We're not," said the officious voice. "Send her ahead of them by the dark roads, burn as many favours as we need for access to a Realmgate, after that it’s out of our hands, isn't it? We can send a few acolytes along with her to at least keep her focused, it’s not like she needs to be goaded into killing after all.”

Silence

"It is agreed," said an old voice, heavy with experience and authority. "The meridian shall be dispatched with a full cohort via the dark roads to cut off the Silvermane expedition before they reach the Fimbulwinter, she will fulfil the contract or she will die… either way the guild will win.”

No one argued and, after a moment, a gloved hand reached out and snuffed the candles wick.