The mask of the dead allowed some of the memories of those he had killed to flow in.
A dark room.
Someone was sitting at a small table.
The moonlight streaming through the window made it possible to see under their nose, but not the face above it.
-If you kill a new recruit of Roswen, I will give you a gold coin.
A deep voice.
From this alone, it was hard to tell who the person was.
-Gold.. Spend it. We may be mercenaries, but we're no strangers to killing adventurers, and this one's gold-rated…
-Not enough?
-What I meant was that if you give a little more, I will process it neatly and completely.
-If you clean him up, I'll hire you to take care of the others. I might even pay you more to see that you do a good job.
There were no clues in the conversation.
He looked away.
He glanced at the clothing of the man at the table: a black cloak with leather armor that looked quite luxurious.