After a night of contemplating, Kai returned to the scene of the crime. He moved through the abandoned granary and through the trapdoor.
Below the city. The old Thieves Guild's headquarters.
"My new base of operations. No more working with smaller scale stuff in that cramped attic. I'll work here, beneath the people of Forne."
Kai sat cross-legged, a half-destroyed table before him littered with bones. After crushing and reforming the bones into chalk, he up picked a piece.
A skeletal warrior stood nearby, arms spread like a scarecrow, while Kai carefully carved a sigil into a piece of parchment over the exposed humerus. It glowed faintly as it set into the bone.
He exhaled, then turned to another undead, this one a zombie sprinter with withered muscle clinging stubbornly to its frame. The sigils for speed had worked before: a three-point array of directional motion, anchored to a glyph of ethereal propulsion.
All Forebearer's language.
