Judging from the Layton Family's actions, news of the Wizards had most likely spread through many parts of the Devourer Plane.
The scrutiny surrounding Wizards would certainly become even stricter. Anyone or anything that might be connected to Wizards would be treated with great importance.
All Duke could do now was make sure Hawk received nothing connected to him.
Not even the most ordinary gold coin. However, Hawk had not asked for any reward; he simply wanted to work for Duke.
Without Duke, Hawk's caravan would never have made it this far. They would have long since died in an attack by the Gray Forest Bandits.
Hawk also understood that a nobody like him would most likely have no further dealings with Duke. All he wanted was to handle this matter well for Duke.
"Thanks for your hard work." Duke nodded as he looked at Hawk's bloodshot eyes and caught the smell of alcohol on him.
"It's my duty, sir." Hawk seemed to sense that Duke's presence was even more solemn than it had been yesterday and did not dare ask questions.
He added in a low voice, "The meeting place and method are somewhat unusual. You need to confirm them personally. Old Scar—the tavern owner—will take you there. It's at midnight tonight. Please be careful."
Night fell like a curtain steeped in ink, slowly covering the noisy, chaotic Goosepeak Fort.
Near midnight, the waves of noise gradually subsided. Knock, knock knock. Three faint knocks, evenly spaced, sounded at the door.
Duke opened his eyes, silently slid off the bed, and pulled open the door.
Outside stood Old Scar, the one-eyed proprietor. His hood was drawn up, and his weathered face, marked by a scar and a single eye, showed no expression. He merely gave Duke a slight nod, signaling