GMWith the black cat gone, the Seneschal drew the heavy curtain across the window, muting the noise of revelry from the town below.
He chewed his lip as he sidled over to the hearth where a fire crackled. It was a warm summer's eve by all accounts, but the head steward could not shake the nervous chill he always felt when dealing with the demonic messenger of the Diabolist.
He wasn't afraid of discovery. What could Lady Morgen say or do to threaten him? About half his time in her employ was spent wishing she'd expel him, so he could return to the old baron's people and poison them against her. They surely had a claim on Rosencliff, especially if they could be convinced that the old baron's death was suspicious.
The palid man shivered, staring sallow-faced into the fire. The irony was that dishonest, trecherous as he was, the Seneschal was deeply uneasy to be working for anyone likeminded as he. Gullible, trustworthy masters were his ideal.
In truth, the demon cat Griefer had always been good to his word, but the Seneschal knew that words could be twisted to suit one's own ends.
To wit, his thoughts turned to the adventurers who were, at that moment, celebrating with the rest of the town, down on the strand. Celebrating the completion of a quest to consign a fabled treasure trove to the
wilderness. What waste, what self-righteous, self-aggrandising rubbish!! If anyone would be cursed it would be those who spurned such wealth at a time when the town's need was so dire.
Wringing his hands, he glanced over his shoulder, around his dour chambers. No-one there. Then he reached into his pocket and withdrew his fisted hand, opening it in the glaring firelight.
It was a cut stone, a green garnet some hundred carats in size. A fistful of gemstone. The Seneschal cursed breathlessly as he gawped at it, almost overwhelmed by its beauty and his simple coup.
"So you returned the treasure, did you? Every
last bit of it?" He sneered. Oh, he had made liars and fools of them!
Of course, who had catalogued the treasure when the guards handed it in? Him! So the head steward had simply written off the gemstone.
A green garnet of its size and splendour would be enough to change his fortunes forever. If he could find the right buyer -- the Queen of Vorspring came to mind -- he would be set for life. Sweat broke out on his brow just handling the gem.
Then the fire hissed and spluttered and the Seneschal looked down.
A thick, sickly white vapour was rolling into the fire from behind him, choking the flames. The Seneschal spun around with a gasp.
There stood the alabaster apparition of Gorulon Gorehound, glowing with green balefire. The horned helm, the mail and a heavy-bladed kopis in its hand.
"Now wait---" Blurted the Seneschal desperately but the spectral sword swung at his neck.
And then, finally, the quest was completed.
[If we had end credits, this would be where they rolled. Here's Axl Rosenburg for some music to see us out.]THE END 
