“What do you want from us?” Barbec asked. He was a short bald-headed man with a nose that looked as if it had been broken a number of times, and he spoke in a low grumble.

“We shall go to Varrock,” Sulla replied. “It is a big enough city to hide in, and with the contents of this box we will make ourselves rich.”

The men hesitated.

Finally, Barbec decided for them.

“We’ll come with you… Sulla.”

So you do know me! With that realisation came anger-that news of his defeat had spread so far that even in The Wilderness, simple bandits dared to mock him.

“How long have you known?” he demanded.

“Since we made the agreement.” Barbec looked to Leander once, and licked his lips uncertainly. “Leander wanted to sell you to the Kinshra, but I thought we should first see the treasure.” His eyes fell on the box. “What’s in there anyhow?”

Sulla laughed.

“These parchments contain important information, but they are written in an old Kinshra code, and only I can decipher them.” He turned to face the men, who still clustered away from the werewolf. “For now that is all you need to know. Now, get the horses ready!”

The men moved to obey, while Jerrod reached for Leander. As he did so, the thief drew a knife in trembling hands, and found his tongue.

“It hurts!” he gasped, dropping his knife as Jerrod dragged him a short distance away.

“As I knew it would,” Sulla said gleefully. “Alas, it is a temporary poison that only lasts a single day. An old woman prepared it for me when I was still part of the Kinshra knighthood.” Briefly, he wondered what had become of the sybil who had served him so well, but swiftly he shook off such sentiment. He crouched and moved in close to the thief, nodding in the direction of the knife that lay on the ground.

“That is the easiest way to end your pain, my duplicitous friend,” he sneered.