“Order him where I can see him,” Qurrah said. “I need no assassins at my back.”

“Well, that is what you have, my friend,” Tarlak replied. “And quite frankly, I can’t order him to do anything. You’re the one with the fiery whip, after all.”

“Qurrah, I’m not liking this,” Harruq said, shifting attention back and forth from the short warrior and the cloaked man.

“Nice to know,” his brother said.

“I believe I have a solution,” Delysia said. All eyes turned to her. “Let them join the Eschaton.”

Harruq, Qurrah, and Aurelia all glanced about in confusion at this, but this hardly matched the confusion of their counterparts.

“Join us?” Brug roared. “By Ashhur, I’ll join ‘em in a grave before I join ‘em in Eschaton!”

“May I ask what the Eschaton is?” Aurelia said.

“The Eschaton Mercenaries,” Tarlak answered. “Named after my sister and I. The four of us in front of you would be the Eschaton. We do a few jobs, kill a few people, and get paid outrageous sums for it.”

“They are skilled,” Haern whispered from behind, startling all three. The sharp end of a saber curled around Qurrah’s neck. “Skilled enough to be trained.”

“How does this solve the problem with my elven blood?” Aurelia asked.

“Vaelor’s edict ordered the Veldaren Guard, and the Eschaton Mercenaries, to remove all elves from his city,” Delysia replied. “It did not order elves to be removed from the Eschaton itself. Our home is not located within Veldaren’s walls.”

“It is a weak argument,” Qurrah said, his eyes locked with Tarlak’s. “And a tough decision to make at the point of a blade.”

“Well I have to decide at the point of a, well, whip. So go ahead. You three seem more than capable. Feel like becoming part of the happy family?”

“More like the black sheep of the family,” Brug grumbled. Delysia swatted him on the head.