maro emptied the contents of the envelope on his desk. He had found it lying in front of his door about an hour ago: An envelope with his name on it, AMARO. Not a soul was to be seen but Amaro knew he was being watched as he took it and went back inside.
Two wrinkled pieces of paper. He recognised the familiar handwriting of inquisitor Jack Springer on one of them. A letter.
"It is time, Amaro. I know you also believe the rumours to be true, my friend. Rathleton, Feyrist, the Dream Courts and all those other incidents... they all go back to a single source, shrouded in mystery but cunningly planning its every move. Our sources tell us that the Shiron'Fal have increased their efforts to raise the bodies of fallen knights from the dead. Amaro, the dread legion must not be underestimated any longer! Too much is at stake. We cannot allow them to unleash lich-knights to ravage our lands and plunge our world into darkness. While we inquisitors are working to unveil their sinister goals, we need trustworthy people out in the field. We need you to visit those twelve graves I mentioned when we last met. Sanctify them and let us hope none of the blasphemous rituals have been performed yet. This journey will take you to places you know like the back of your hand, Amaro, and it will also lead you to new ones, like Issavi, the magnificent capital of Kilmaresh. I know you always wanted to visit this vast peninsula that once formed a contiguous land mass with Krailos and Oramond. Be warned, though. You will also have to go to her place. One of our spies has located the hideout. The map will show you the way.
Report back to me as soon as possible, old friend."
"Kilmaresh, finally!" Amaro whispered with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. It faded as he eyed the second piece of paper hesitantly. He could make out the eastern coast of Darashia and the outline of an island that looked almost fortified. A greenish substance had soaked through the paper right there. A butterfly flew in through the open window, landed on the stain and licked it greedily. Amaro marveled at the butterfly's delicate and mesmerising wings. Suddenly, it fell over to its side, legs still twitching for a second, and then... it died. "Poison! Nothing escapes the gaze of the Cobra out there!"
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