Wandering aimlessly isn’t going to get you anywhere, so you finally decide to visit Advoca. It’s been an age and a half since you’ve seen her, and now you most certainly want to; you miss her. Oh, do you miss her. You stop in a small town and ask to use a shopkeeper’s transportalizer, somehow ignoring the way he shies away from you and the stares of those around you.
At least they’re not running. Yet. They look like they’re about to, though.
You punch in the coordinates she sent you and pause a moment, realizing you’re incredibly nervous-it’s been a long time, after all, and from her last message some things have clearly changed. Will she want to see you? You hope so. Just showing up like this might seem rude but you’re not sure you care.
She did say you could come by if you needed a place to hide, after all. And right now you definitely need that. So you head on over to where the coordinates point you and you send her a quick message:
Now to see what she’s done with herself since you last saw each other.
In the middle of a council meeting, you receive a message; it’s short and rather to the point. The name attached to it tells you why. There’s no rush— at least, you don’t think there is. Calling over a guard, you tell him to send three men to the throne room. While you think that’s not nearly enough, sending a whole army to match his power level would be excessive, and unnecessary. In the meantime, though, they’ll keep an eye on him while you discuss the merits of sending miners to Vekslende. You have more important things to take care of than a blast from the past.
In twenty minutes, though, you put the discussion on hold, leaving the room in a flurry of skirts, asking that no one follow you. By now, they should know that your privacy is important to you, and this? This is a deeply private matter. Before entering your throne room, you puff yourself up, smiling wryly, and resolving to keep that smile on your face. Opening the doors with both hands, you step inside, greeted by three of your guard and a masked man. Karken, no doubt. “Good evening, gentlemen! I see we’ve all met.” It’s said rather excitedly, to dispel any tension within the room. You don’t make eye contact with Karken yet, looking to your three servants, smiling warmly. “Thank you for your assistance, but I have it all under control from here.” You pat the hilt of the sword you keep on you, in a way everyone in the room may see: this is not only assurance, but a warning. “Please station someone outside the door, though. I do not want any interruptions.” They follow your orders, as enthusiastically as you gave them, and once the doors have been closed, you take a seat upon your throne— one that is guarded by a large marble dragon. That smile has not left your face, and you finally look at Karken, chuckling.
"I thought you had forgotten about my offer. Or at the very least, you chose to ignore it."