Hadjar did not add that he didn’t have much time left. Even by the most optimistic calculations, he had no more than three centuries left after the ‘deal’ he’d made. That was a long time for a mortal, and about a week, comparatively, for the adepts who’d reached the pinnacle of mortal cultivation.
“Yes, of course,” the shapeshifter nodded, and then he pulled several more parchments out of his pocket. Just like the one with the map, they were stained with blood, and some were torn or charred. “This would be the first problem.”
Arnin placed them on the table. Everyone else began to read them one by one.
“A contract with the Dead Man’s Cry Squad,” Shakh muttered. “Are those the irritable gentlemen who wield weapons made from the bones of Wild Gods?”
“Yes,” the dwarf nodded.
“I can’t
