There is a tall white stone manor house near the outer wall of Saj-graf. The age of the house is as old as the family name that owns it, the wood timbers twice that old. The family is charitable giving to each of the six churches of Saj-graf. The blood line though is slowly dying off as the younger of the brothers, still a bachelor, has long since kicked the older out. He is more in love with wine and philosophy than the women that would gladly line up for a marriage proposal. In the wine cellar of the lord’s manner sit three men enjoying a fine red wine. The dry, bitterness of the wine goes well with the conversation. The three men are discussing recent events in the city.
“Sudeman, do you really think there is a group of enchanters here operating outside the guild?”
“Crevan, I know so. An old friend came to see me the other day concerned his daughter, a healer, was up to more than just tonics and poultices. He mentioned one name who I will not say here as I do not want to spread word about those I do not know.”
“And what advice did you give?”
“That he should take no action till he has seen something. Without evidence, he is only listening to voices of thoughts and ghosts of doubt.”
“They are always in a rush to assume the worst.” Spoke the third person. He looked the part of owner of the estate, well dressed and groomed event while getting drunk in his own wine cellar with two of the wisest men in town. “Yet when they see the error it hurts all the same.”
“And what is your advice to Sudeman, Hector?” Crevan asked.
Hector paused, brushing a lock of his brown hair from his eyes, “Take notes of what concerns you and speak to the loved one. There is no reason for secrets in a family.”
“Did that work with your brother Corvus?” Crevan asked.
“Yes, though my fears were just not the right ones. He is after one man specifically and will not rest till then. The Prince, the one of the underworld, is his target. Yet no one can tell him who that is or where to find him. He has issued several formal challenges, and all he receives is silence.”
“The Prince…that is like the Lord Elwin they have in the Beggar’s Quarter. All noise and no substance.” Sudeman spoke up.
“Possibly so, Sudeman,” Hector replied.
And so the three men continued on debating the existence of leaders in the underworld. The lights in the vault of wines would burn through the night with no conclusion reached except that wine should be enjoyed in moderation.