A messy letter slipped into Samton Ashworth's camel's saddlebag

[neverwhere]

So you want to know how much your life is worth.

I'm sorry. I can't so easily bring myself to laugh at these things anymore. I certainly can't find it in my heart to become the same sick, frightened wreck that I was when I still could. As for you, Ashworth, I remember your face from Kroggy's going away party, and now when I look at you, that's all I can see. So forgive me if the thought of you being murdered doesn't tickle me the way it used to.

However, it still feels remiss of me to duck the question. So I've done some soul-searching. Looked in the mirror and asked myself, seriously, what the old me would have said. And she answered. Still there. Still listening.

She said she'd hire a Necromancer to reanimate The Throater, then pay the now-reanimated Throater to give you "The Full Throating."

So the answer is, however much that would cost.

Probably a lot.


Mene tuulen muana,


(Pang)

[Karp]

[a letter makes its way to the Sagebrush Camp]

Pang:

What the fuck is this?

I asked for a number because I think that Nathaniel Blackvale paid too little to have me killed.

Ten thousand dinari? That's the Reyer-amount, in my opinion.

My head is worth at least twenty thousand.

I know what Kroggnought would have done, if he caught word of Blackvale's intent.

"Kroggnought kill enemies of Sultan."


Such wisdom, from such a young man.


ASHWORTH