"Nothing. It isn't for sale."
The quartermaster glanced at the scepter, plainly reluctant to let the conversation end there.
"The city could make a generous offer."
"You can start by not trying to take what you already owe me."
"You and your wives have been living in Sarthal for more than a week, Adventurer Black. Sleeping beneath the protection of our soldiers, enjoying the security our people provide. Surely the city deserves some consideration in return."
Quinlan looked down at the finger the man had placed on his payment papers.
Until that moment, he'd been having a bit of fun making this cowardly pencil pusher pay what he owed.
At the mention of his women, the pleasure left him completely.
His free hand settled on the table beside Drazek's wrist. The quartermaster glanced down at the black gauntlet, then up into the red fire burning behind Quinlan's visor.
"Are you threatening the safety of my women?"
