Vas ached with every exertion of breath. The fight with the Shadows outside the Nidalese nobles’ house had left him as week as a toddler. It would be a long recuperation. He would not abase himself before some preaching quymn again so quickly. No, some days of bed rest, a little help from Li and this would all be like another bad hangover.
So, Vas sat in the bed the nobles had given him. Befitting his current weakness the bed seemed to be made for someone significantly smaller than him. If not for his sickness he’d sooner sleep on the floor. Despite is inner protestations, Vas fell into a trance deeper than slumber. He could feel himself awakening again behind the wall of sleep. Leng. He hadn’t been here since he left Molthune so many months ago. That could only mean…
“Hello again, Cassandra”.
The Next morning Vas was gone.
Vas pulled himself from the lake. He supposed he should be used to being dropped back into the most interesting of places by this point. A tower loomed in the distance. He was back in Golarion. Back on solid ground. He thought about what Cassandra had told him before he left. Was it true? Were the rest of the Brotherhood of Butchery really dead? He hadn’t given them much thought since his imprisonment at Blackraven Hall. He supposed it was only a matter of time. One didn’t rack up such a body count without making a few enemies. And Figgus was dead, too. Something was coming for him, and everyone else connected to him, it seemed.
Cassandra had bought him a reprieve in Leng. It would be short one, though. If what she’d discovered about his heritage was true he’d be in for the biggest fight of his life. Who better to drag into it than the only other people he even came close to caring about? The Lords of Leng told him they’d be in Varisia, so that must be where he was now. The coming weeks promised blood and carnage in equal measure. Vas hoped the Harbingers were up for the hell he kited with him.