Role

Chapter 8

Ralshamar considered, that perhaps, he had been thinking too small.

The mummy's decree concerning the Spire had come as a surprise to him. A
consolidation of power, perhaps? A simple distaste for those profane that
would openly look upon him with disgust? All reasonable theories, and yet
Ralshamar did not believe the mummy had lied to him when he had asked why.

The claim that he had had enough of the citizens of Thera believing the
Spire served. That it was by his will that the cities were kept protected,
and all should come to know this. Misguided, of course. The Spire as an
institution was based on a flawed proposition; that cities needed to be
protected at all.

And yet.

For the briefest moments in that discussion Ralshamar had sensed the hunger
there. Not the hunger of a creature that wished to safeguard the cities;
the hunger of one who would push and push and push until he pushed too far,
and the chains of mediocrity would snap.

The mummy may sit atop the spire for now, but in time its luster would
tarnish. He would feel constrained. Would want more.

When that day came, when the mask did not merely loosen but was torn away.

Ralshamar would be waiting.

Yes, Ralshamar decided. He had been thinking too small.

The thief was a trifle.

The mummy was a far more worthy ambition. Though it may take centuries...

They both had time.

Now, how to expedite the process...