Gangs of Kalamshan


A dark smoke had settled over the cemetery from the ceremonial lamps burning spices from the Cleric’s home-region. The funeral was coming to a close and the crowd began to disperse. From the center of the crowd, The Ghost thought he saw someone familiar, a man he hadn’t seen in over a year. “Damn they’re good,” the General thought to himself as he glanced around. He was sure they were there as he immediately recognized Theryn and that massive beast of a horse he brought everywhere. He couldn’t risk exposing them so he dropped the messenger coin hoping they would find it. The Ghost watched him wander away before signaling the others a meeting point and climbing from his perch.

“He wants to meet,” The Ghost muttered as he passed the message for everyone to read. “This has to do with the Cleric right?” Theryn wondered aloud as the Ghost nodded in agreement. “The timing is too coincidental. He asks for our only face to face meeting since day one on the day of the funeral? Something big is up.”



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