Abasdarhon's Castle

-- Hmm, -- Quint replied succinctly and headed to the meeting place.

Quint entered a small room with a round table, where several influential members of the guild were already seated. When everyone had gathered, exactly at the appointed time, Modain entered. His raven hopped off his master's shoulder and strutted importantly across the table. As usual, without greeting anyone, the leader scanned the attendees with his empty eye sockets, made a gesture resembling a deep breath, and approached the window, which was boarded up. - All eggs in one basket. Good, - the raven spoke, while Modain turned to the assembled and began to scratch what was once his nose bridge. – Arrows, wings, bones, sails. Chaos. For now, the chicks are only pecking at what the mother hen provides. In this situation, the mother's legs are not that long. In the near future, I advise against visiting the graves of relatives or feeding pigeons. Neither the tombstones nor the birds need our golden eggs. They need entrails and bones. But you can relax on the beach, but don't get too comfortable in the sun. There are still rats in the city, as far as I know. Stock up on rat poison, just in case. The skeleton approached the table and looked into the eyes of each of those present, waiting for a gesture or words of agreement from them. The raven flew to an empty cabinet standing against the wall.