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The meeting continued on for far longer than Karkash would've liked. Lozaro droned on and on about the new trinkets he was providing to them, and if Karkash had the authority, he would've absolutely told him to be more concise.

Especially because the trinkets weren't even that complicated or impressive, as far as he was concerned. They were baubles meant to be distributed to the less powerful members of the each sect. A way of boosting their combat potential.

And there was a lot of magnetization, Karkash noticed. Magnetized knives. Magnetized grenades. Magnetized bullets, even.

Karkash could only surmise that Lozaro had created these things after observing him on the battlefield.

Which was quite annoying, the more Karkash thought about it.

All redundant works. Inferior to what he could more easily do himself.

When the meeting was finally over, Karkash was ready to tear the tented enclosure to pieces just to escape as quickly as possible. Instead, he settled for walking.

Maddeningly, however, Lozaro found him and began talking to him directly.

"A moment, please, Headhunter."

Karkash contained his displeasure and turned to face the man. He said nothing.

"Will you be seeking an audience with Jercash today?" asked Lozaro. His sickly complexion might have made him fit right in with the Venerators--or perhaps he even used to be one.

"No," said Karkash. Why was he asking that?

Lozaro's brow twitched. "...I see. But if he calls for you, what might you tell him of the meeting we just had?"

Karkash's expression was stone, but he had no idea where this line of questioning could possibly be leading. Should he just be blunt?

Pah, why not? The man asked.

"I will tell him that it was a waste of my time."

Lozaro looked absolutely haunted. "I--you--ngh... egh..."

And what was this now? Karkash so badly wanted to try slapping some sense into him, but again, he restrained himself.

Karkash felt a hand on his shoulder as someone else arrived and stood next to him.

"What's the matter, Lozzie?" said the familiar voice of Abdul Mari.

The man they called Lucky, among other odd monikers.

Karkash eyed Abdul carefully. There weren't many people who could sneak up on him like that, anymore. His senses had become highly attuned in multiple different ways, to the point where people kept asking if he had eyes in the back of his head.

And yet he hadn't sensed Abdul there at all.