A storm was rising over the horizon and, as Eadric watched from his suite, began to pelt the windows facing him with hard rain. A drop here, and then a deluge. Sipping wine, he watched as the pitter patter of rain turned to a deluge that inundated the skyline in a dark gray seething mass that sparked lightning and thunder sporadically, the latter rumbling ominously. In his youth, in the villas outside of Rome, it was said the Gods spoke through thunder. Now, two thousand years later, Eadric knew they spoke through people with the voices of thunder.
In his service record, he had encountered Gods. Slain them. Dragons. Killed. Monstrosities that would have broken the minds of mortals. Banished back to the hellscape from whence they came. He could do all that but he still couldn't escape the day-to-day grind of monotony that life became after so many years. Even elderly humans awaited death with something resembling eagerness. Multiply that tenfold and it was a miracle that he had not allowed himself to be killed by one of those many denizens that had crossed his path at the wrong time. It would have been easy. Just a bit slower getting his guard up, a little more hesitant blocking a thrust and he would be with his Lotus and this existence would fade like a bad dream.
But no. He had made a promise to her all those centuries ago. He would die. But when it was his time to die.
Before that day came, he had a job to do.
Putting down the empty wineglass, he dressed quickly. The Company didn't have a uniform, per se, but overtime Eadric had preferred sharp, clean uniforms of a uniform black, black dress pants coupled with a black silk tie and vest. Not only did it accentuate his strength and height, it made him look the intimidating Manager that he evinced when working with others among the Company while maintaining that formal professionalism he had created as a public persona. After finishing tying his handmade stitched Italian dress shoes, he gave himself a lookover once, was satisfied and left his suite.
As soon as he was in the elevator, he tapped the panel in a series of patterns. Once completed, a female disembodied voice spoke up,"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus?"
"Alert the team. Have them meet in Conference Room A for a brief on the next mission."
"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus. When would you like them to be there?"
"Immediately."
"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus."
By the time he reached the conference room, the storm that had been raging was slipping once more over the horizon. He could see it from the window that made up the wall of the conference room. The conference room itself was dominated by a massive oval table made of black marble and comfortable leather chairs surrounding it. As Manager, he took his place at the head of the table and awaited patiently for the Company to file in.
In his service record, he had encountered Gods. Slain them. Dragons. Killed. Monstrosities that would have broken the minds of mortals. Banished back to the hellscape from whence they came. He could do all that but he still couldn't escape the day-to-day grind of monotony that life became after so many years. Even elderly humans awaited death with something resembling eagerness. Multiply that tenfold and it was a miracle that he had not allowed himself to be killed by one of those many denizens that had crossed his path at the wrong time. It would have been easy. Just a bit slower getting his guard up, a little more hesitant blocking a thrust and he would be with his Lotus and this existence would fade like a bad dream.
But no. He had made a promise to her all those centuries ago. He would die. But when it was his time to die.
Before that day came, he had a job to do.
Putting down the empty wineglass, he dressed quickly. The Company didn't have a uniform, per se, but overtime Eadric had preferred sharp, clean uniforms of a uniform black, black dress pants coupled with a black silk tie and vest. Not only did it accentuate his strength and height, it made him look the intimidating Manager that he evinced when working with others among the Company while maintaining that formal professionalism he had created as a public persona. After finishing tying his handmade stitched Italian dress shoes, he gave himself a lookover once, was satisfied and left his suite.
As soon as he was in the elevator, he tapped the panel in a series of patterns. Once completed, a female disembodied voice spoke up,"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus?"
"Alert the team. Have them meet in Conference Room A for a brief on the next mission."
"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus. When would you like them to be there?"
"Immediately."
"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus."
By the time he reached the conference room, the storm that had been raging was slipping once more over the horizon. He could see it from the window that made up the wall of the conference room. The conference room itself was dominated by a massive oval table made of black marble and comfortable leather chairs surrounding it. As Manager, he took his place at the head of the table and awaited patiently for the Company to file in.
Around the CHQ, polite knocks would begin at the door of each suite of the Company members and consultants. The knocks would continue until answered. Upon answering, a female goblin would greet them with a single piece of stationary, ordering their presence in Conference Room A.