by Glenn » Fri Feb 22, 2013 1:44 am
He did not know everything he thought he did.
Five years ago, Glenn Burnie stepped into the Broken Dagger. Five years ago, Glenn Burnie saw a man there, a man with silver-white hair, a man he knew but not well, a man that he had been told not to forsake. That man had just taken Myrken as his own to save it from the storm bearing down upon it. Two months earlier, young Glenn, a Glenn no older than Nightingale was now and in some ways so much younger, had decided to stop running, had decided to make his life here, to make his stand here, even if it was a final one. It was not until that day in the Broken Dagger, however, that the mapmaker finally gave up his cherished freedom, his false freedom, in order to have the power to better defend what had come to matter to him.
Two years later, in Underdark, Burnie was set free once again, free of morality, free of compassion, free of doubt and restraint.
And one year ago, bonds were placed upon him once more, the mantle of Governor. Since then, some of those earlier chains had started to tug. If only she had seen him upon his return from the darkness. What a smile he would have had for her then.
Now? Now his hands were tied. It didn't matter what he knew. It did not even matter what he believed. It mattered what necessities he had to live by in order to achieve his aims. That was something her father understood. What had she showed him? That when pressured, she would not immediately break.
He spoke after her, calmly. "In two days time, you will write me a letter. I will return a response with the messenger you send. In the meantime, know that you could have earned my protection, even for the smallest of things. You chose not to. Without real provocation I will not send my forces down your throat. If someone happens to see you with your mouth wide open, your face wearing a guilty expression, however, I cannot ensure your safety."
With that he'd turn, not waiting for a response or even a glance back.