the smuggler’s bible

Branbildon the Wise-Head

The change in the air is nearly imperceptible. But only nearly. A wizard of Branbildon the Wise-Head’s caliber could pick out the scent immediately—and so he does. He hitches up his robes and begins to trot along the corridor with one hand on his hat and the other frantically tapping at his sabretache.

“Wake up! What are they hiding down here? Goodness, it must be wonderful. Can you feel that?”

The dagger says something Branbildon can’t quite make out so he begins tugging at the pouch straps.

“What? Repeat yourself!”

“It’s bait,” the dagger says, quivering, “you old fool.”