Peter Muelling

Pomp and Circumstance

It was early in the morning; the birds had just begun to sing their songs. Renard walked to the King’s Head Tavern a few blocks east away from the grand bazaar. He entered through the back door, as he was instructed, and entered a dimly lit room with many cloaked figures mingling amongst each other. Sitting at a large oak desk; Ridley Oordeel was spinning a dagger on its tip.