Mafia 74. Dance of Life and Death

The dim light of a pale moon filtered through the dense vegetation of the dark forest in thin streaks. But it was enough to clearly see a well-trodden path leading to Arandor's house...
A large, high-quality, beautifully furnished forest hut reminded one of the status of its owner. This is not some kind of shack on a mountain. This is Arandor Heroesworld himself. He loved to spend a long time in his forest retreat alone, making grand plans and exciting adventures. However, he was always happy to share adventures with a good company of loyal friends. Holding a piece of apple pie in his left hand and a large mug of fragrant hot chocolate in his right, Arandor sat in his favorite armchair in front of a solid fireplace, pondering something deeply Arandorian. Images, events, words, all of this mixed in his head into a bizarre interweaving of fantasy and reality. He would sit like this until morning, the wood would burn out, the chocolate would cool, the pie would dry out, and the first rays of the morning sun would dispel the night's dreams…
The path was winding and treacherous. It led now one way, now in the completely opposite direction, resembling a labyrinth, only without walls and minotaurs. It seemed that it was trodden by some dreamer, completely forgetting about everything and guided only by fantasy. Siverfale didn't like this. Wandering in a dark forest filled with various creepy creatures and traps, even for such a brave and adventurous person as him, was not particularly enjoyable. Moreover, the forest is not exactly his element.
- Damn you, hacker, - the traveler swore. - Oh, this Arandor, such an Arandor x)
He continued to make his way through the thicket, moving slowly but steadily, and after some time he saw a dim yellow light in several places. Undoubtedly, this is Arandor's forest house. Having received a clear landmark, Siver headed straight for the house. Peeking through the window, he saw the owner sitting in an armchair with his eyes closed, drinking and eating…
A heavy oak door was knocked on. The knock was disgruntled and rough. Arandor was wary. Slowly putting down what he had in his hands, he took his sword and approached the door.
- Who is knocking at my door? Whose hand has touched the gates of my abode?
- Grandma, it's me, your granddaughter, Little Red Riding Hood.
Recognizing the voice, Arandor put down his sword, moved several heavy bolts, and opened the door.
- Please, come in, Mr. Siverfale, - he said with a deliberate solemnity and a kind smile on his face.
Removing the tagelmust from his face, Siver entered and extended his hand to the owner for a handshake. After greeting the guest, Arandor offered him to sit at a small table near the fireplace, and he himself went for some treats. Returning with a pie and candies in his arms, the owner put them on the table, and he himself sat in his armchair.
- And what about drinks? - asked the guest.
- Tea is boiling, so let's discuss our business in the meantime.
- Judging by everything, I am the first of all to arrive, - said Siverfale, taking off his headdress, running his hand through his medium-length black hair, and looking around the room.
- Yes, the first. I gave a week for preparations. I didn't think you would get to me in one day.
- I had some unresolved issues in the village not far from here. And as soon as I resolved them, I set off to you.
- That's even good, there will be someone to chat with.
- You said something about business.
- Ah yes, business, affairs, little affairs…