Somewhere in Visskonia...
A richly dressed figure strides through a field of wheat towards a nearby impact crater. The walls of his city, Brundaru can be seen a few miles off. With one velvet gloved hand he gingerly picks up the object at the center of the crater. Darkness pours from the palpably beating artifact as it's whispers begin to assault his ears. A familiar amulet of green soapstone hangs from his neck.
Yes, Old One. In time. All in good time. Your sibling awaits you back at my castle. He gently caresses the object in a reassuring manner as he steps over the corpses of half a dozen looters. Each unfortunate individual's face is contorted into a visage of horror as black ichor pools from their eyes and ears.
His crimson-clad escort greets him when he returns to the limo.
Crimson: I told you it would be here.
Lord Sinh: I had my doubts, but it would seem my trust in your particular...talents was well placed. I should like to continue our business relationship...if that's amenable? The tone in his voice indicates that this is NOT a request.
Crimson: Your pathetic grasps at true power do not concern me, Sinh. I want only one thing, to see my brother dead. My aiding you today was only a means to that end. Now that he is gone I am free to pursue my own agendas.
Lord Sinh: I can still hardly believe that causing an engine to explode when it should't have constitutes as a "power". The alchemist's parting gift surely could have caused the cascade effect...? Sinh ever so subtly begins to drum his fingers in an eerily a-rythmic pattern...
Crimson: When one has true power, the weak cannot even conceive of it's existence. That is all the explanation you will get, Sinh. Pray that our paths do not cross again.
The crimson-clad figure smiles as Sinh finishes his silent incantation which should have encased them in an eldritch prison. Somehow at the last second, faulty wiring in the limo's air conditioning malfunctioned interrupting his tapping with a painful electric shock. When he looked back up, Crimson was gone. A smile spread across his face. Well played, my friend, well played.
Lord Sinh taps on the glass separator. Driver, to the castle. I have much to ponder.