Which is the greater magic; that which can sink a castle into the earth or that which can make the world's greatest sandwhich?
On his thirty-fifth birthday Akribus paid a wealth of coin for the greatest weapon ever forged by men or Gods.
Just off the road a man lies dead, pierced through the heart from behind by an expertly thrown and ornate dagger which remains in the body. A long strip of cloth torn from the man's shirt has been tied around his neck; on the tag end an unknown hand has written a cryptic inscription: "For Djaygo."
When you get to the next town, everyone is talking about a mercenary woman found slain in exactly the same fashion in her room at the inn where she was staying.