“Inside of the Dutch Tavern on the outskirts of indigenous elven territory, Kondor slouched on a sofa near the dart board. His fingers idly turned the small booklet of badges provided by the Fumbbl Officiating Guild also known as FOG. “I Choose You” was one title. Nominate one player to kill during a match and then kill him on the pitch. At least that would be interesting he thought. Too bad you can’t nominate your own player. That would make it even more interesting.

He glanced at the moondial outside the window and was pleased to see a slender hooded figure hurrying towards the tavern door. With such a bland name as the Dutch Tavern it could easily be mistaken for several other establishments in the Dutch town of Venlo. Pubs and bars seemed about as common as cobblestones.

The figure in a dark purple robe that seemed almost black took a seat in one of the darker corners of the room. It raised a hand clad in an ornate burgundy colored glove with a gesture that demanded service. The rotund barmaid who had been entertaining some drunken rogues hastily straightened her disheveled skirt and hustled to fill the order.

Kondor grimaced and picked up his own glass then gulped down the last swallow of his own elixir. He knew this encounter may be pleasant but it would be costly. Only briefly did he pause to consider if it would be worthwhile.

Moments later the same gloved hand made a similar gesture in Kondor’s direction signaling that the negotiations were at foot.

Kondor decided to make the hooded one wait. He stood and rather than moving to the obscure table he approached the barkeep. Without even exchanging words the man lifted a grey wineskin and refilled the glass with an orange liquid. This time Kondor purposefully took a moment to look at his glass, downed it, and extended it again for one more refill. Only then did he turn and move towards the creature in the corner.

Kondor moved to sit on the stool across the table but the hood shook its head slowly and tapped the cushion next to it demanding that the coach come closer. Again Kondor emptied his glass then moved to the assigned seat. But today Kondor would not go meekly. No, the figure needed to know he could not easily be pushed around.

Without asking permission Kondor grabbed the candle and pushed it close to the velvet cloak illuminating the face that was obscured to the rest of the room.

Below it was a youthful disarming smile. A face that could not naturally be more than 19 years old stared back hard, cold, and alluring. Shoulder length hair as white and soft as down did not even stir as she took long and measured breaths. Her gloved hand found its way to Kondor’s thigh seemingly with a mind of its own.

A sickening and thrilling tingle moved through his body but Kondor forced his mind to focus. In front of him sat the most successful and accomplished slinker in the realm. He had dealings with her before and most of them were not unpleasant, but he knew she should not be crossed and he knew this was not a pleasure trip for her.

“Kondor my sweet” came the melodic voice though somehow her lips barely seemed to move. “What information do you ask of the Organization?”

The “Organization” as she called it was the strongest spy guild in the realm known as the Scarlet Scriers. Their agents were referred to as slinker. Most were trained by the Crown, but the elite were free agents who for reasons of their own took employment on their own terms.

Xolaxlexa only took the most difficult or interesting jobs that were offered. Most corporate espionage bored her but Blood Bowl was her passion. So when the Organization was first approached with Kondor’s original request she latched on to a job that most of her rank would have found demeaning. While the direct profits were not as handsome as political work, she enjoyed the job and always had the option to pawn it off to a guild novice should she choose to do so.

The original job she had done for Kondor was to investigate the orc captain on a coach called Fangbanger’s team the Bad Luck Blackhearts. It turned out that Captain Shorty had a soft spot for goblin mead. The information proved invaluable. On the day of the match Shorty was given enough mead to flatten a troll. He proved unpredictable on the pitch and while he killed a zombie, he was otherwise ineffective.

Since that day, when the situation was dire or an outcome important, Kondor had enlisted the services of the Scarlet Scriers, and every time save once it was Xolaxlexa that had come for the contract.

Now Kondor looked to her and explained the contract. “I need information on every one of the Archers of Avelon. I don’t trust them and I need to know how to control them.”

Xolaxlexa’s eyes sparkled. “Back stabbing I love it! This contract could prove delightful. However, I aim to please so I need more information.” she whispered.

Kondor began to speak but the ruby colored glove slid gingerly across his leg causing him to hesitate.

“No. Don’t tell me.” she hissed seductively. “Show me.”

She had done this before and each time it made Kondor uncomfortable and she knew it. He looked Xolaxlexa squarely in the facade and thought of the name Revwe Larereta and then began thinking of the Archer of Avelon team captain. As he did so, Xolaxlexa’s white hair darkened to an amber brown and her ears took on an elven point. Her eyes faded from almost black and took on a greenish hue. Her chin slightly elongated then rounded and her head actually enlarged slightly. Only her nose did not change. In moments before him sat an elf that looked to be Revwe’s twin sister. Still Xolaxlexa caressed his thigh and chuckled at his involuntary reactions.

Now she leaned in closer. “Who else?” she crooned in Kondor’s ear.

He shook his head to clear the image and thought of the name Nienna Nenharma. Again Xolaxlena’s features began to shift around her unchanging nose until a taller blue eyed blond elf with flush pink lips sat before him smiling more broadly than before.

Xolaxlexa giggled. “So you like this body Kondor. Have you been watching the Archers shower room?”

“That is enough witch.” grumbled Kondor finally pushed the crimson covered hand from his knee. “Let’s see what you can give me on those two and perhaps we will speak more.”

The face still smiled but the voice pouted. “Kondor, is that any way to treat the women in your life?” One more time the features changed and the hair returned to the white it had been before and once again before him sat the 18 year old image of his deceased sister just as it had been when the candle first flickered before her.

“I will prepare your payment as usual. The exchange will be made as usual. But I do have to ask one thing. Are you really even female?” stated Kondor.

Xolaxlexa stood and pulled her cowl more tightly over her face and answered his question with a matter of fact question. “Have you ever wanted me to be anything else?” Without waiting for an answer she continued. “The payment will be half price. A bloodbowl team has a good deal of turnover. I will expect repeat business in this matter. And by the way, congratulations on your win later today.”

“The game today?” thought the confused coach as he dropped payment for the drinks on the table and escorted his changling spy to the door. Once outside he commented. “When they send a reaper for me, I am certain it will be you.”

The hood stopped abruptly and looked him square in the face. What Kondor had thought was an eternal smile quivered and the straightened as the brows lowered into almost a scowl. “You and I are linked more than you can ever know and my destiny comes through you. But even if that were not the case I am not of the murderous Enlightened Dagger. I am of the Scarlet Scriers. Keep that in mind if you want to continue our business together.”

Shaken, Kondor nodded and then bowed. “Thanks be to the services of the Scriers.” he stated.

When he looked up again, the velvet hood was well on its way and Kondor was relieved to be able to get back to his drink and prepare for the Archer’s match against the Danish Champs FC.”