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Koreth sighed, rubbing his temples as he stared at the sheets of parchment spread out in front of him. The incident reports didn't seem to contain anything connected to Orr... besides necromancy and corruption of course, but not every necromancer was connected to Orr, and the corruption could have simply been an unintended side effect of the artifacts.
However, the entire situation still nagged him, the Orrian dagger in his belt pouch a potent reminder... and both reports from the Priory on the amulets and the mission report of the raid on the Sylvari cult's base were conspicuously missing. On the other hand, the recruitment in Divinity's Reach had practically disappeared, which seemed to point to them having eradicated the threat.
The light gray Charr sighed, gathered up the papers, and laid them in a pile at the side of his desk. He needed to step back from the situation, see it with fresh eyes later. Instead, he pulled a small piece of parchment from a pocket on his leather jacket and unfolded it. It was worn and slightly crumpled, as though it had been in the pocket for a while, and been folded and unfolded often.
He pushed his ever-present hood back to read it, a strange expression on his face. Sorrow, frustration, fondness perhaps?
Find me, Greymane... Or are you too old for the game of tag, already?
He set the note down on the desk, pulled a fresh sheet of paper towards him, dipped a quill into the inkwell on the desk, and began to write.
Dear Vera,
It was good to hear from you after the destruction of Lion's Arch, to know you didn't die in the attack. During various breaks since you sent your message, I followed your trail to the refugee camp in Gendarran Fields, but there it went cold, like the trails of many other refugees. I have not heard of you in the Black Citadel... I will have to ask a few friends to keep an eye out for you the next time I return to Ash Legion headquarters. I haven't given up on your little game, don't worry.
But it doesn't seem as though I will be returning to Ash Headquarters any time in the near future. You may remember the warband I was temporarily assigned to shortly before Shadow disintegrated. I joined it after Shadow split, and through a (to me) rather strange turn of events became brevet, then legionnaire.
I have never been particularly ambitious, and I find the life of responsibility does not suit me well. I had to kill a challenger, my ex-legionnaire, and lost another warband member due to an error of judgment when I sent him to a Flame camp alone during an undercover mission.
I have another, new member, who claims to want to be Ash, but he fights and acts like a damn Bloodbrain sometimes. I'll have to work with him. His death is another on my head if he's killed.
I am not used to being majorly responsible for anyone besides myself and maybe my mission partner. I miss the days when we worked together, knowing I could trust you to do the job right, when you had my back and I had yours. Despite the way our fahrar mates used to push me around before I made them respect me, I miss the warband we had. I had not really realized until now what a good team we had, instead of this mish-mash group of ex-gladium. Growing up together will form a far stronger bond than just about anything else.
I am not going to leave the warband, nor my spot as legionnaire. I am needed, and I have a duty to my warband and Legion. I cannot understand how you could leave the Legions. I would quite honestly feel lost without them, and I wonder what you have been doing all these months. But I can respect your decision.
Perhaps it is time to end this attachment. We never thought it would be necessary, being in the same warband and all, but shit happens. I have my duties, and you've gone your own way. We wouldn't be any different than most Charr who end things when they're re-stationed.
I will take the warband to Caledon Forest soon to investigation the destroyed base of a cult of necromancer Sylvari. What I've heard of events seem to point to their troublemaking finding its end, but I have a nagging feeling, and my gut has never betrayed me before.
Koreth stopped writing and stared at the words. What was the point? He couldn't send it to her anyways, since he didn't know where she was, and he sounded like one of those overemotional mice. With a growl, he crumpled up the paper, and threw it across the inside of the tent.