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Throckwoddle sets his tophat on a table, flops into a chair and sighs
I first decided to work with the Sczarni because of all of the players on the field, the Family let me pursue my own goals carte blanche while still lining my pockets to fund my... research. It was a grand time, even when the work was a bit morally questionable.
Let me be plain. I'm a vicious, underhanded, morally bankrupt cockroach motivated by fear, greed, curiosity and spite. Though I am no blood relation to the rest of you Sczarni, you accepted me with open arms and made me feel as one of your own. I thank you all for that.
But now you're getting in bed with al'Hakam and his mob of pompous, sycophantic lickspittles? I rob graves, animate corpses and defile the bodies of my enemies to ensure they aren't able to give me trouble after their dead. By comparison to those Qadiran milksops, I'm a shining beacon of Humanity with a titanic amount of integrity.
The undertaker exhales slowly while running his fingers through his shaggy, dark and greasy hair. There's a brief moment where he seems about to say something but he stops himself, instead retrieving his topper and standing up.
I appreciate the opportunities the Family has provided me, but I won't work with your new partners. I wish you all good fortune in your future endeavors and hope you collectively extract your craniums from betwixt your lower cheeks.
Setting his hat back on his head he turns to leave but pauses in the threshold
As for myself, I've been offered employ by Dralneen's new club. I can't say her jobs will prove as lucrative as the Sczarni's have been, but I can say it will be far more enjoyable staring at her open shirt than it ever was being assaulted by Guaril's.
With that, he sets off into the world.