The shadowy figure bounded from roof top to roof top around port before settling silently at her feet. It was hunched, mildly deformed in figure with eyes that sunk in slightly. It twitched a bit as it removed the blood covered scroll from it’s cloak, the hand of which held it still clutching it tightly with white knuckles.
“He said he would hold onto it until he died, didn’t he?” she whispered with an amused smirk.
The creature laughed lowly and deeply as if smoked far too long in it’s lifetime as he handed the scroll to her, detached hand upon it and all. She pried the fingers off of it and tossed the hand somewhere into the Vernian, turning to walk upon the top of the Port Tavern as she read.
The words where ancient, cryptic, perfect. The schematics of the creature told to be buried within the Sahara’s that could bring about the change she wanted, the revenge she saught, and the closure she needed where indeed very real. More so than she could of possibly expected and closer than she had thought it to be. The very place that she needed to look next was indeed the very item she gave to the local sect of “black dressed priest” in that tavern in port awhile ago…
“I want you to locate the church of the builder…stay hidden…consume no flesh. My fathers box, the note within it…I need it…and soon. The numbers upon that box will open the foot locker in the oceans of Numatia…after I dispose of that…law coming this Thursday. We will retrieve the box, by any means neccessary, short of death that is.”
The creature nodded obediently and stood as tall as it could for a moment only to bow before her and slink into the night like the shadow it was. Rolling the scroll her mind wandered towards the bit of information she had given that Monk, Jerome. She had only hoped that man was nosey enough to still be on a goose chase and no where near its finish line.
She doesn’t want to have to dispose of any of the church of the builder because rather she wills it or not…she may need them in the end…