It's short, but that was done on purpose.
Cain Fell drummed his fingers on the table before him as his eyes were trained on the piece of parchment that was laid before him.
His dark gray eyes took in the subtle penmanship of the words. A great deal could be learned about a man from studying the way he wrote.
He shuddered as he came to the conclusion that he did.
Word from him is never good, even when it sounds like it… like this.
Cain’s eyes rose from the parchment and scanned the contents of his large canvas tent. Everything seemed to be in place. His bed and the wooden chest next to it were untouched, as always.
Satisfied that there was no one hiding in the tent, his eyes returned to the parchment and he stroked his dark brown goatee. “So he finally wants to make his move, does he?”
The thought was not displeasing, though annoyance began to creep up.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t do it himself. He always hated getting his hands dirty.
He shook his head at his associate’s letter. He truly could not find it in him to be surprised by it, even a little. It was just his associate’s nature.
“Very well then,” Cain mused as he began to roll the parchment up. “The Black Crow will do your dirty work.”
I can’t say I know why you want us to go after such a backwoods little village, but that’s not a surprise. You always liked keeping secrets. Nonetheless, Kirakath will fall.
With that, Cain slid the rolled up parchment into his tunic and made his way to speak with his men.