Chapter 72 - Tractable

"So? What's the deal? Why's the Lady of Branches after us?" Vargas laid back against the sparring mats with a bottle of water, sweating half his weight in sweat, "Can't say we've done anything to her?" 

Argo stood over Vargas, looking down at him, "I could kill you right now." 

"But ya won't. Yah aren't that kinda man, are ya?" Vargas shut his eyes and stretched on the mat after taking a drink from his water bottle, getting comfortable, "So?"

Argo stared at him a bit more, and then laid down on the mat not faraway, staring at the ceiling where magic crystals burned for light inside of glass cuppings. 

The mats were padded, and rather comfortable, to be honest. 

"...Have you ever wondered why it is that the Nightmares that had remained in the Mountains, are now running down from them?" Argo shut his eyes, letting the heat from the meagre fires floating above in their cuppings wash over him as the cold began to take root again.