While Murphy returned to Transia and spoke with the Scarlet Consul he relied on, Julia, the goatfolk scholar who had returned with him, and old Finley went to pay a visit to the nominal master of the Blood Eagle Clan.
That was Lady Triss, honorary elder of the Dark Roots.
To be honest, Triss would rather not have received these goatfolk who had traveled so far. The main reason was that she knew her own past all too well.
Back then, she had chosen to become an elder of the Dark Roots in the Abyssal City of Widia for no noble cause. Her goal had been perfectly clear: to use her position to steal a few treasures from the goatfolk vault.
Like the Dark Robe of the King of Ten Thousand Curses and the legendary Staff of Ten Thousand Spells.
In the end, she hadn't stolen a thing. She had nearly been cornered by the goatfolk elders and beaten up. If luck hadn't been on her side, and if a good friend hadn't secretly helped her, the once-glorious Scarlet Witch would have been wanted as a criminal all over again.
The story was embarrassing enough just to tell.
Triss was very particular about her reputation, and she had always regarded it as one of her "darkest secrets," doing everything she could to hide it. Yet now, not only did the little man at home already know all about it, but the goatfolk "old acquaintances" from back then had come knocking on her door.
Sigh. What was that saying again?
The past could never simply disappear. It was always shaping the present, and it would shape the future, too. What a nuisance!
But these goatfolk were "guests" Murphy had brought back, and little Murphy had high hopes for them. Triss couldn't