The King's Strategy Room, Early Spring...
(The Mask) Erik rubbed his chin, considering the proposition. "Is there any possibility," he began, still considering the Mask's request, "That we begin with a smaller business? As your ring grows more successful, you may find that the spy rings are able to...fund themselves. No?"
Later...
(Ludwig) Erik gave a small nod. "This will be done. Speak to my steward, he shall provide you with private quarters in Lady Drua's former chambers. They are close to the Alchemist Mahtan's quarters, and I am certain he will have no qualms with helping another agent of the Crown. Further, the Chronicler's former quarters are nearby as well, and you may find more records of use there than in the archives themselves." He paused a moment to consider the request for pay, and then queried: "Are the living expenses you are being paid not enough?
The King's Chamber, Early Spring...
(Kain) Erik sighed, and then quickly affected a smile. "Truth be told, I'd sooner wish you fund yourself. The less money coming directly from the crown for such an endeavor, the better. But nevertheless, it is done -- Simply tell me what it is for first, friend."
Later...
(Mahtan) Erik sat in his customary chair, a mug of ale in one hand and a crumpled letter, bearing the seal of a Storm Coast household, in the other. An identical letter lay crumpled in the fire, and even as Mahtan was ushered into the room by the guards the King watched the flames devour the words contained within. "Take a seat, Mahtan..." Erik stated somberly after a long moment of silence, his eyes did not leave the fire, "...and tell me: Where have you been?"
Later...
(Terenos) Mahtan hadn't even time to leave the chamber before Sir Edvin, clad in the glimmering steel of the Knight Guard, stepped into the room and dropped to one knee with a thundering crash. "My liege," the young knight, who was perhaps no older than fifteen, began before realizing that an amused Erik was waving him to his feet. "Erm...My liege," the knight began once more after clambering to his feet, "The Black Shadow of Elbreth has returned with a full compliment of guardsmen."
Though Erik was still trying to stifle laughter, he rose to his feet nonetheless. "Very well," he replied after a moment to regain his composure, "Have the guard gather in the courtyard to meet him. I will be down shortly..."
Terenos and his men entered a courtyard muddy from rain and filled with several dozen steel-clad knights, great swords held pointed down with shield in front in a stoic ceremonial pose, their dark blue cloaks billowing about them in the sort of winds that could only precede a thunderstorm. In the center of the courtyard stood the King himself, clad in a dark red tunic of some fine fabric, his father's longsword slung over his back. "Welcome, Terenos," he cried out, his baritone voice eerily accompanied by the whistle of wind through the burnt ruins of the east wing, "I've been waiting to see you."